


Forged In Your Heart

by Misttiique



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Background Hance, Blood, Demon Hunting au, Fantasy AU, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sheith Big Bang, Sheith Big Bang 2018, Supernatural Elements, Violence, and a lot of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-14 19:12:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16046777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misttiique/pseuds/Misttiique
Summary: Keith, a professional demon hunter, is never one to run away from a fight but when his blade is broken, he ends up fleeing to the town of the Garrison. He finds himself in the presence of Shiro, an enchanted weapon maker with a complicated past that he feels a connection to. But feelings get complicated when Keith's life and the town are in danger when the demon comes back to finish what he started.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My piece for the Sheith Big Bang 2018! Thank you to my artist Opaldelight on Tumblr for the art created for this fic and my beta Apheliosan on Twitter!

Lightning split the sky, dropping rain onto the already soaked earth. The storm was getting worse, and Keith pulled the hood of his jacket lower to shield his face from the rain. Droplets trickled down the leaves and the edge of his scarlet hood onto his faded red hoverbike. The rain and the roar of the engine were the only sounds heard as Keith rode through the thin, desolate road through the forest to the town of Garrison. At least, that was where he thought he was going. He needed a place to lie low for some time while he regained his strength and resources. His blue-grey eyes squinted at the rain-hindered view.

Those eyes contrasted with his fair skin and jet black hair that reached the back of his neck and covered his forehead. He wore leather tights with both of the knees ripped, not for fashion, but because of a near slice to his knees. Inside of his red leather jacket with intricate white details was a simple black tee. He wasn't the type to wear gaudy accessories or charms to ward off demons because why not just be simple and functional? He only had black leather fingerless gloves and the belt he wore was made from a demon whip. He carried a small sheath for his blade, but with that gone, it was as empty as his heart. With the aesthetics of a demon hunter and the skills of a professional one, there was no point in trying to hide the fact that he was the best at his craft.

But this was just Keith's bad timing. Just the thought of what had happened made him grind his molars and press his lips in an even tighter line. He began ticking off the event that had happened within the last twenty-four hours alone.  _ Tried to hunt down a demon, check. Was winning until the demon distracted me with talk about my past, check. Got my ass sorely kicked, check. My blade, the last remaining piece of my father, broken to pieces, check. Hmm, what else? Oh right, barely escaped by the skin of my teeth and on the run, check and check. _

_ Well, at least the home was temporary anyway.  _ Keith tried consoling himself but who was he kidding? He was a mess and probably had always been one.

Trouble followed him everywhere he went and thus, he had decided no attachments would be the motto. But he had gotten comfortable in Altea, where he had spent the last six months or so. Traveling from town to town wasn't something new to Keith because he had been practically been raised on the run, with or without his father. To have your blade broken in front of you not only was an act of disrespect but like your blade, your worth was shattered.  It meant you were weak and weren't even able to protect the thing that protected yourself, and that was something unredeemable.

He dropped his hoverbike to a crawl as he approached 2-mile mark from the town. It had grown into a city but it looked ordinary. A little too ordinary. From what he knew, it was demon infested, more so than Altea was, and that was already high up on the list of towns and cities not to visit if you were afraid of demons.

Demons came in all different shapes, sizes, varieties. There were human types, monster types, hybrids of both, some possessing various powers from the elementals to ones that mess with your mind and control you. These were nothing new in a world of supernatural creatures - vampires, werewolves, warlocks, mermaids, anything and everything. The difference between the ones to kill and the ones to not kill are their souls as there were some creatures that kill to gain the person's soul. But to Keith, they were all the same: another job. One he had been doing since he before could remember.

His gaze flickered to the side after hearing a minor crack in the distance. A small golden ember burned in the distance, as soft as the sunset on the horizon. It radiated warmth and Keith caught himself wishing he could go there and wait out the rain. He could feel eyes watching him in these woods tonight. But when wasn't there? He fought the urge of killing whatever that was out there with a reminder that he was unarmed.

There was something almost hypnotic about the light but Keith kept his eyes on the road ahead of him. He soon arrived, and the nightlife welcomed him with more chill than arctic. As he had predicted, it was quiet.

A memory reminded him of stories his father told him of being born right here in the Garrison but they had moved barely before he had turned a year old. But what stayed in the past should be buried in it.

Some people still roamed the streets but no sign of any demons so far. Keith spent the next half an hour combing through for what he had been looking for. Finally, he decided to pull over and ask for directions. He should probably find a small hotel or something to spend the night but that wouldn't be a major concern for now because he was on a mission

He was in no rush but there was a primal, almost desperate urge in his heart to replace what had been taken and broken in front of him. Maybe it was the fact that it was what was all that was left of whoever Keith Kogane was. He stopped his bike outside a crowded bar and walked in.

It could have been a scene from an old movie: the stranger walks into the local bar and all eyes on him. The sound of his thick black leather boots hit on the marble floor. This city was proving to surprise Keith even more. Small orbs of light hung in tiny bubbles of glass from the ceiling like a chandelier, and glass and stone covered the walls. Glowing flowers lit up the tables in the bar. Keith looked around, inhaling the scent of fairy tonics, a little cigarette smoke and alcohol, luxuries that at this point, Keith couldn't afford. Being on the run meant keeping himself on rations, especially knowing if you may need the money to collect resources before you can even find your next job.

A man, or what seemed like one, with ginger hair stood at the bartender counter twirled the end of his mustache. "I've never seen you here, kid," he said to Keith, his accent thick. "Stepped into the bar for a drink?"

Keith shrugged, "Maybe so, although I've never been here before."

"Well, what brings you to the Garrison then?"

Keith sighed. He hated people knowing about him, anything about him. Even when he was at school, he hated the interactions because people, more often than not, would put him down. Then it became a habit never to open up. He always thought that people could think whatever they wanted to think about him, as the only thing that mattered to him the most was what he had thought of himself. and That was enough for him. Although in this case, it was more about gathering selective information. He doubted news had spread around about what had happened and no one was gathering up a hunting party to go after him. Yet.

He realized his hood was still on and pulled it back. There wasn't anything dramatic about it except that he still looked like a kid, too young for his age to be demon hunting. The only advantage was that he could remain a concealed professional.

Keith cleared his throat. "I'm looking for the weapon maker."

"You've got to be a little more specific, boy," the man said, leaning casually against the counter.

Keith's reflexes were sharper than any demon and stood his ground, prepared for action to spring at him. Reading people wasn't his forte but experience had taught him well.

"The weapon maker that makes special kinds of weapons. The enchanted kind."

"Now we're getting somewhere." The man beckoned him forward. "Let me get my boss to help you out."

The man slipped into a hidden door in the stone panels and reappeared with a woman. She was tall, slender and her dark skin glowed with crystals in her circlet, necklaces, numerous bracelets, and rings among other accessories.  _ Charms against demons,  _ Keith realized. Her long curly white hair was pulled in a ponytail atop her head and cascaded down her back in white waves. She wore a loose, slightly rumpled white dress and her equally white nails seemed to be filed to a dagger point.

Only then Keith had realized he was staring, and at her ears, which were a lot pointier than normal. Come to think of it, the ginger-haired man standing next to her also had the same kind of ears. Keith could have been drinking the fairy tonics all this time because he'd only then realized that they were both fairies.

"Keith Kogane," the white-haired fairy said, pronouncing every syllable. "Demon hunter."

Looks like his infamous reputation did spread. His hand was on the side of his sheath, only to find it missing.

Keith stiffened and nodded solemnly.

"Looks like you didn't come here for a drink. What do you want then?" She crossed her arms and looked at him pointedly. She knew the answer, the vision had come to her days before.

Anyone would be intimidated by a demon hunter, especially one of Keith's caliber. Even in the face of the most soul-hungry demons or horrifying supernatural creatures, he was fearless enough to intervene. With a price, of course. But even with his status and experience displayed promptly in front of her, the white-haired fairy seemed unmoved and unimpressed. However, Keith’s mind was set and he wasn’t ready to back down either.

Everyone would be a little intimidated by a demon hunter, especially one of Keith's caliber. Demons would be at the top of the list for soul-hungry creatures to battle with among all other supernatural creatures, that some would even be afraid of. And that would be exactly where Keith would come in, of course with a price. 

"I'm looking for the weapon maker., of the enchanted sort," he repeated.

"Don't you demon hunters have all the weapons that you could possibly need?" She asked, continuing to test him. She knew she was treading on a thin line here, but he came to her vision for a reason.

"Mine just happened to be broken. It was enchanted and irreplaceable. But now, I need another one. I know this town has a one that is particularly good at his craft. "

She nodded. "I do know of a particular one."

Keith considered carefully.  Fairies have been known to be coy but his fingers on his empty sheath reminded him again of his motivation to even come here. He would agree, but his defenses and reflexes still made him cautious.

"Go on."

The white-haired fairy uncrossed her arms. "There's an enchanted weapon maker that lives by the edge of the town, deep in the forest. It's the only small hut, so you wouldn't be able to miss it. He doesn't like to be disturbed, but the weapons he makes are sure as hell powerful. I'm sure you would already know that. He can be pretty reserved but don't let that intimidate you because if you can convince him, he'll do it."

"Thank you," Keith said curtly. "And I'm sure this comes with a price…Am I not correct to say so?"

"I've seen your purpose, Keith Kogane. It's an important mission you've got there."

"How do I know you're not lying?" he questioned skeptically, because why would she just give out information just like that?

"The demon you're hunting has done damage to this town before. He's hunted my people and my own friends. My visions never lie."

Her words echoed a familiar tune in his ears and he nodded solemnly in agreement, having experienced it himself.

"I understand," he said, not dropping his eyes once. Bluish-violet eyes met her sapphire ones. The ginger-haired man stood sternly at her side, no doubt in this situation either. As a fairy, one of her powers must be prophecy, Keith thought.  

"Good. We may be seeing each other soon. Oh,  the name's Allura by the way and that's Coran," she said, extending her bejeweled hand.

Keith shook it, nodded and left to enter the ever so heavy, constant rain.

—————

_ Must be pretty special to be living in the outskirts of town,  _ Keith thought, getting on his hoverbike. Even his headlights couldn't shine bright enough beyond 5 feet of him. He pressed his lips together in a determined line and sped off, his hoverbike creating tsunamis in its wake. Going all the way back to the edge of town took slightly longer than he had expected and looking at his phone, it was almost midnight.  _ Well, better late than never. _

The most difficult part of the trip was getting his hoverbike into the forest cover. Roots seem to intertwine themselves, as if plotting to trip him over anytime. The rain had gotten heavier and his background included cracks of lightning and claps of thunder that seemed to fracture the sky above him. He glanced up from beneath his hood to find an almost full moon and smiled knowing that each full moon brought demons out, meaning demon hunting. That would result in a little more cash, something, which if he managed to get his weapon sorted as fast as possible, would result in him being able to survive longer.

At the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a pair of luminous yellow eyes staring at him. They seemed hollow and the pupils were cat-like, but Keith was sure that it wasn't. They stared at him, unblinking. People on the main road could have mistaken them for headlights of a crashed vehicles or lost hikers, the perfect bait for them to go in and rescue whoever was unarmed. He would have reached for his blade if he could to eliminate it with a swipe, but without his blade he was powerless.

He remembered the sight of the soft amber glow in the distance but he remembered the feeling it gave him even more. Warmth and comfort was what he remembered, a feeling that brought back memories of his childhood. One that ended abruptly because he had to simply grow up. But since the pair of golden eyes didn’t attack him on sight, he would deal with it later if he had to. 

He dismissed the thought and got off his hoverbike after stopping outside the hut. It was actually more than a hut, but a wooden cabin with a connecting shed. Soulless black windows stared at him like empty eyes. He looked toward the shed to see the origin of light. He walked over to the entrance and peered in.

Inside were forges, anvils, and a collection of blade-smithing tools. They filled all three corners of the large shed and were meticulously arranged according to their shape and length. The shed was much bigger than Keith thought. Some of the tables inside had consoles which seemed to flash screens of blueprints to an assortment of weapons. Beside them were more and more tools. However, in the middle of the place stood a forge that seemed to be a gateway to hell. Keith could feel sweat dripping down his forehead as even the rain couldn't take away the heat of the open flames.

It wasn't the source of light in the room but it may as well have been, as it shone a spotlight on the man in front of it. He had his back turned and from the light, Keith could see the man had an undercut. He moved his gaze lower to see that the man was shirtless. Keith watched as the man used tongs to retrieve the metal he had been heating up and pulled it out of the forge. It was still in flames and the weight of what may possibly be a sword showed itself in the contraction of the man's biceps and back muscles.

Keith's jaw dropped into a delicate 'o' as he was fixated on the thick muscles. The sword he held clung on to the flames from the forge like a torch in the darkness.

It was then Keith realized, the man was shirtless like it didn't really hit him in the first place. Keith knocked tentatively on the wall next to him. He didn't expect the man to hear it in the sound of the rain but the man spun around to face Keith.

Keith was sure his jaw dropped even further. The man was slightly older than him but much, much taller. He had black hair with a white forelock that was long enough to touch the tip of his nose. The heat of the flames was apparent from the perspiration that dripped down his sharp nose. A long line of pink ran across the bridge of his nose and a third of his cheekbones. The flames flickered in his enchanted steel grey eyes.

"We're closed," his voice was deep and slightly husky even. His tone was firm and possibly a little resigned. Keith stared a second and let his gaze trace over the man's body. If his back was impressive, then what would that make his chest and abs? They had seemed to be carved out by Adonis himself to perfection and it looked stronger than marble. And like marble, it was scarred with streaks of faded, dark pinks and whites of varying lengths and sizes. What was most striking about him though was his prosthetic right arm made out of black and titanium steel. All along it was intricate lines that never seemed to converge. The area in which the prosthetic joined to the arm was scarred and burnt and looked like it had been seared on in the most painful way.

He looked like a deadly model that could kill you while you begged for more. But Keith was composed and prepared, almost. He had stared into death's eyes an infinite amount of times before, so talking to this strikingly hotter than the forge's flames weapon maker shouldn't be a huge deal, right?

Keith reminded himself of who he was and his purpose of coming here in the first place. "I'm looking for an enchanted weapon maker. And I heard you're the best in, well, just about everywhere. I'm looking for a new weapon."

"Like I said, we're closed. You can find a weapon from somewhere else. Now, leave," he ordered.

"Please, you're the best enchanted weapon maker in this region. I wouldn't come here but I'm out of options and I need a new weapon. Urgently, if you will."

He was ignored again as the man carried on with his work, unbothered Keith’s presence. 

"Wait, I'm," Keith sighed, he seemed to be telling all the truths today. "My name is Keith Kogane and I'm a demon hunter. My blade was broken right in front of me. That weapon was the last thing I had of my father and the only weapon I used in demon hunting. It was enchanted and it protected me. I…I…I desperately need a new weapon because demon hunting is the one thing that I can do right in this world. How much would it cost? I have the money and I'll pay anything." That was a blatant lie but he needed to convince him.

"I don't want your money. Go find someone to make you a weapon elsewhere. I'm busy if you couldn’t tell."

"Please," Keith begged. "The demons that broke my blade, they're after me and I don’t have anything to defend myself. They may come to this town and wreak havoc." The thought had come to Keith when he had come here, and that was precisely why trouble always followed him wherever he went.

"The answer is still no. Leave, before I make you." The man pointed the flaming sword at him. Keith staggered back, hitting the metal behind him.

The man quenched his sword in a barrel of oil next to him, extinguishing the flame. Smoke rose to its surface while Keith stood there and waited but no answer came.  _ Guess I'm on my own then,  _ he thought before turning his heel, his hope fading, just like the smoke from the flames that were quenched.

Keith didn't know where to go. He knew the demon wasn't done him, not even nearly close, and it would usually finish its job one way or another. He contemplated leaving again to another town but that would just have meant the demon passing through here and leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. He needed this entire chaotic hot mess contained. He needed this blade so he could defeat the demon once and for all to stop the demon and redeem himself.

This was his only chance. And so instead of heading back out into the rain and back on the road, he sat on the porch of the wooden cabin. It wasn't so bad under this meager shelter, and better than nothing. The storm grew stronger and beat in, his bangs now soaking wet. He sat and waited and waited and waited. He had no idea how long he was going to wait there but if he was anything, he was persistent enough to wait for the man to come back and beg him again. He didn't care what it took, he was going to get a blade. Go get a blade or go home, and he had no home anymore.

From his phone, a few hours had passed, the rain showed no sign of lightening up, neither did his motivation. Footsteps crunched on the forest floor from behind. Keith's weight on the porch's wooden floorboards creaked as he shifted his position to see who it was. The man was back and on instinct, Keith stood up, hands at his sides, ready for action. He was groomed into being a demon hunter with reflexes and reaction faster than any animal.

"You're still here," the man commented, dragging the sword behind him. "Persistent aren't you? Waiting in a storm like this."

Keith sighed and relaxed slightly. He shifted his weight, trying to find a comeback. He narrowed his eyes, about to scowl back, but he knew his place. "I just…I just need a weapon. I'm desperate. I've lost everything at this point. And with the demon on my trail, I need to minimize as many casualties as possible. Look, this isn't just for me. The demon that nearly killed me will stop at nothing to have my corpse, even if it means wreaking havoc on my trail. If you don't help me make a weapon, not only will my life will be on the line, but this entire town will get caught in the crossfire too."

The man considered for a moment, licking the top of his teeth. He really admired Keith's drive to finish what he started, and he knew how much it meant to have one's blade broken in front of them. He knew what it was like to have the only possession and link to your past broken. And he knew that in demon hunting, only a few weapons were suited to each demon hunter and without his weapons, a demon hunter was nothing but unusable skill. Besides that, the name Keith Kogane was familiar, a little too familiar. He vaguely remembered hearing that name right before…before he was captured. Some of his customers could have spoken about him too, seeing he was a demon hunter.

He used to save people too, a long time ago, before he got the arm and the scars and the haunting memories. This town was where he grew up. He didn't like to act like he cared, after all, he wasn't who he used to be - the protector, the demon hunter of the Garrison.

_ This is going nowhere, he's just going to say no again,  _ Keith thought. He strode past the man. "It's okay. I'll just go."

"Fine, I'll do it," the man said when Keith was half-way out into the rain. Surprise and shock were obvious on his face and he mentally hit himself for being that expressive. He couldn’t help himself as the corners of his mouth twitched into a smile, something that he hadn't expressed in a long while.

"We'll need to get the measurements done beforehand and I'll need your specific arrangement details," he said, walking toward Keith, not at all bothered by the rain. Up close, he towered over Keith a bit more than he had expected. He held out his hand, "Keith Kogane, right?"

"Yes," Keith said, unafraid to stare into the man's eyes, showing that he meant business. 

The man stared back at Keith, "I'm Takashi Shirogane. But you can call me 'Shiro'."

Keith took his hand cautiously, glancing down at the prosthetic right hand. Lightning struck and thunder exploded in the background, as if agreeing with this decision as well. His touch was gentle but the handshake was firm. He was confused because a few hours ago, he had been told to leave but now he was getting an enchanted weapon, but why?

Keith addressed the biggest elephant in the room. "How much will this cost me, exactly?" He thought about whatever money he had saved from all his jobs and thought that it may just possibly cover at least three-quarters of the price.

"How about we talk about it when we've decided the weapon and its additions. For now, let's get that sorted first." Shiro knew no blade meant no income but he wasn't going to let him off that easy. From his experience, he knew everything came with a price.

Keith nodded, suspicious of the kindness but he'd go along with it for now. "When do we start?"

"We'll start tomorrow morning. As you can tell, I have a job to do now."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find the art [here](https://opaldelight.tumblr.com/post/178289857076/i-can-finally-post-my-sheithbigbang-entry-this). You can find Opaldelight on [Tumblr](https://opaldelight.tumblr.com/) and Apheliosan on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/apheliosan) and [AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/apheliosan/pseuds/apheliosan). 
> 
> Come talk to me at Misttiique on [Tumblr](https://misttiique.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/misttiique).


	2. Chapter 2

Keith rode back into town. The rain had simmered down a bit but still poured buckets over his head. He found a small motel closer to the edge of the town, as it would be easier to get down to Shiro's place first thing in the morning. He laid his bare, limited possessions from his backpack on the stiff bed. It was all he could gather from the night he left his tiny apartment in Altea. The night had been a frenzy. He remembered he was sliced lightly across his abdomen and there were numerous scratches on his arm. They had been bleeding before he hastily bandaged them up and hid them with his jacket. A wounded demon hunter meant one that could be easily taken down. Besides those bleeding cuts, blue-black bruises coloured the rest of his body from the being flung around like a ragdoll and the hits he had taken.

He laid the sparse first aid kit down with a balance of bandages and some medications and pills. He took out his clothes next from the bag: three black t-shirts and another pair of black jeans, all similar to the ones he was wearing. He took out the essentials of soap, a toothbrush and toothpaste, the essential travel pack. His life existed on the run so he was always prepared. That was why he could escape the demon in the first place.

Next, he took out his collection of random items he'd been collecting at every place he had stopped over the years. They were oddities of an old cinema ticket where he watched a movie about a giant robot called Voltron made up of five lions, a swiss-army knife, a rubber band when he thought it'd be cool to grow his hair out but cut it once it felt like he was wearing a hat, and an hardback leather notebook with information about demons, strange dreams, and doodles. He felt that if he ever left anything behind in this world, it would be journal full of whatever the hell was in his head.

He checked to make sure the windows and doors were closed and locked again. Call him paranoid, but he knew it was better to be protected than sorry for it later. He stripped off his jacket and his sweaty t-shirt, unraveled the bandages and examined his bruises and cuts.

The cuts had already turned to scabs. The bruises were also already fading to yellowish-brown. This had been one of the worse hits he had taken. The speed of his healing was a little fast for a human but then again, it was probably the enchanted blade that protected him. He dismissed the thought and proceeded to undress and shower the rain away.

He crawled under the covers on the bed and wished for sleep to claim him. He waited and waited and waited. Eventually, he did, but only to be soon interrupted by visions of enchanted steel grey eyes.

He checked his phone, almost dawn. He got ready and shrugged on his jacket in front of the mirror. He smoothed his hair in the mirror, hoping he'd look at least more presentable rather than the big mess he was yesterday when he had first arrived. He wondered if he was going to early or if he should even continue to trust Shiro on this. But his brain argued that he had been looking for the best enchanted weapon maker, and he had found the one.

He gritted his teeth at his nervousness at seeing Shiro again and how it may turn out. The morning rays of sun made it easier to navigate but even with the sun out, the forest cover cast shadows as Keith navigated through it. The snaking roots seemed to shrink back, and the forest seemed a lot colder than it did when it had been raining.

He stopped his bike at the same spot as the night before and walked towards the shed.

He paused at the edge of it, wondering if he should knock or just go in and say 'good morning'. His hesitation was due to the fact that he had never been good with people. He always felt so awkward around them. The reason he had become what others would call 'cold' or 'intimidating' was because one, he learned he needed to stand up for himself and two, he hated dealing with people that would judge him for who he was. It sucked enough that he found it hard to accept himself, but it was worse to also have to worry about people accepting him. Even if they did, Keith worried they would probably find some way to use whatever things he'd let them in on against him or better yet, get sick of him and leave. It all really boiled down to his insecurities and his abandonment and trust issues.

He knocked anyway before entering. Shiro stood today in a fitted grey t-shirt and black jeans, similar to what Keith wore. The t-shirt accentuated his already defined muscles, and Keith had to consciously and actively pry his eyes away from the sight of it.

"Finally," Shiro announced at the sight of Keith. "Thought you might not have even made it back last night after the storm."

"Well, I did. Faced worse before," Keith replied casually.

"The ones here can get pretty dangerous," Shiro answered, matter-of-factly.

There was a roasted, almost burnt smell to the air and Keith deduced that it must be the entire shed from all the forging that had been done here.

As of now, no screens were up and all the tools were placed neatly in their positions on the walls and tables. Even the forge was not glowing yet.

"Right. So what kind of blade did you used to have?" Shiro sat down on a makeshift desk.  He removed a marker from the stationary holder at the corner of the table and a sheet of paper from a drawer hidden somewhere in the desk. He removed the cap of the marker with a 'pop' and hovered the tip of it over the paper, an eager scribe waiting for Keith's instructions.

_ Old fashioned,  _ he thought and just as it was on the tip of his tongue, he bit it down hard.  _ Don't forget, idiot, you own a journal too. _

"My blade used to be a tanto. Maroon handle with a golden guard and hilt and pins." Keith knew it better than the back of his hand, after all, it was an extension of him.

"Okay," Shiro murmured. The sound of sketching made Keith turn around to look at Shiro, who was dutifully drawing out a tanto.

"How long were the blade and handle?"

"Should be about 12 inches, I think."

"How about the materials?

"Um, metal, I suppose? And wood for the handle?"

"Yeah, I get it's metal but what kind specifically? It can't just be 'metal'."

"How am I supposed to know that?" Keith's temper was fiery and the only thing that could quench it was the satisfying kill of a demon, which was probably not a good coping mechanism. Keith breathed in through his nose, trying to keep his calm. This guy was trying to make him an enchanted weapon, an expert task. He should at least be grateful.

"Alright, metal not known," Shiro said cooly, unfazed by Keith's outburst. "So, the handle is wood." Shiro made notes on his sketch and gave more details to the blade.

"You were also saying that it had the powers of protection, right?"

"Uh, yeah. It had a small crest with an onyx gem on it."

"Could you draw it out?"

"Sure." Keith moved to the table and grabbed a pencil and drew out the symbol of protection on the blade's hilt and the onyx gem embedded on it. "Sorry, it's messy," Keith apologized for his mess of scribbles compared to Shiro's elaborate and detailed artwork of the tanto. Besides the beautiful sketch, it had been meticulously annotated but there was still space for more to be added on.

"It's okay" Shiro assured him. "It took me months to draw a blade for the first time. Anyway, this should be somewhat what it looked like?"

Keith turned the paper to face him and looked at the drawing. It looked as if he could put his hand through and grasp his old blade.

"Yes, it was definitely like that."

"Okay, we're on the right track. But now, what do you want to do with it?

"I'm actually alright with the way it is." All Keith wanted was his blade back, nothing more. He had been perfectly fine with its functions before and he was certain that since he'd worked so well with it, he may as well leave it as it is.

"Are you sure you don't want to add anything? A blade like this has a lot of possibilities."

"It's just, I would really like my old blade back. It was the last thing that I had of my dad and I…I just kinda want it like how it used to be." Keith wanted to say more, but he stopped himself. He didn't need any attachments, especially when people came and went so easily.

"Oh, I see. Alright then. But I do have a suggestion, if you don't mind me saying, and you can stop me at any time."

"No, sure, go ahead."

"How about this." Shiro turned the paper back toward himself. "With an enchanted blade, we have the option of transforming it into another weapon. We could extend the tanto into a katana. And with a katana, we could add additional powers onto it, besides just the protection. Personally, for fighting demons, I would add agility and strength, but that's just me."

As Shiro talked, he scribbled more annotations by the sides of the paper and extended out the blade. He flipped over the paper back to Keith to see his ideas. "So, what'd you think?"

Keith pondered for a moment. It would be hard parting from tradition but functionally speaking, it would be so much more useful. For him to switch his technique from a tanto to a katana wouldn't be that hard, and the additional powers would ensure an easier won battle. He thought about how his blade had broken, the loud snap of the metal,  followed by loud clangs as each piece dropped to the floor.

His memories of training to use the blade with his father filled his head, from the first cuts to skilled slices, how he needed to keep his elbows in and hands near his face. The blade was part of him and he was undefeated with it before, not just defending himself but attacking and making himself stronger. He knew this new and improved blade would do him some good too. So maybe in order to get over his defeat, he would need to forget the blade.

"Yeah…yeah, that could work. Could we maybe add some elemental properties?" Keith had heard from stories that these properties imbue the element into weapons but he himself had never seen, let alone tried one. To his surprise, Shiro knew about it and could actually make it.

"What kind are you thinking of?"

"I was thinking fire actually."

"Alright, I can see that happening."

Shiro added more notes and the finer, intricate details on the paper. The specifications neatly compiled into one side while the main sketch with annotations taking up the rest of the space. It would definitely be an interesting task for Shiro to work on.

"Just curious here, why fire? Usually, people making a blade go for metal. More possibilities, you know," Shiro said, without looking up from scribbling.

"Well, um," Keith started, he had never really considered the question before. "I've always been attracted to fire, I guess," he uttered truthfully.

Shiro nodded to himself and let the silence hang in the air. Keith let his eyes wander around the shed. It was calm here, a little too quiet, but more or less perfect for one seeking solitude and possible peace. It made him wonder about this weapon maker and his decision to come here. He'd been to other weapon makers in other towns and cities, most of them had large shops with their creations proudly displayed. Neon lights shone on their shop fronts, giving it an almost thrilling, yet gaudy vibe, especially at night, which was when Keith usually visited. He did so, following his father’s footsteps and not wanting to attract any attention.

That was part of the job of being a demon hunter. Being quiet, stealthy and invisible, unless you wanted to be seen. That had been why demon hunters, like Shiro, may have given a shit about this town. If Keith had to hazard a guess, he assumed that Shiro used to be the protector of the town.

"How is this?" Shiro asked, breaking Keith out of his thought spiral.

Keith scanned the paper, looking at how everything they had discussed was written on it with lines connecting to each part of the blade - how big the blade itself was going to be, materials for the blade and hilt, additional protections embedded and the crest Keith drew out.

This was his dream blade. It wasn't even a reality yet but Keith couldn't help but smile, a rare one for him. "It's amazing."

"It's not made yet but everything we've talked about should be added in. I just need to get started on it because it's going to be a lot to do."

Shiro saw Keith's smile, perfect white teeth glinted at him. He couldn't help but smile back, for the first time actually looking at Keith. His first thought embarrassed him, proving that he could indeed feel emotions other than indifference. There was just something about Keith that Shiro sensed a familiarity but couldn't put his finger on.

Keith's blue-violet eyes seem to be looking right into his. Keith would have thought that after all he had been through, he was going to spontaneously combust just from this, heart melting as if being put in the forge.

"This is just, holy shit, it's amazing. I can't wait to see how it goes," Keith exclaimed, slamming the paper down. Now, he was really excited, just imagining all the fun he could have with a blade this powerful. He couldn't help but feel like a child getting a brand new, cool toy.

"I hope you can wait a while though," Shiro said with a laugh. "I need to get the basic shape right then I'll need to get some materials. It should be done in a couple of days? If everything goes according to plan that is."

"I think the world won't end in the next couple of days," Keith said. "In that case, do you want me around here or somewhere else, while I wait for it?"

Each weapon maker had their own personal preference to work alone or with others. Shiro worked alone, strictly alone. Enough that people thought he was a recluse living at the edge of town. He thought it was cliché really, but couldn't be bothered to change their perception as he only associated with people when he needed to. But with the connection he was sensing, which was incredibly odd having never felt anything like that before, he thought he should let Keith stay.

"It's up to you, really. You could explore the town since I assume you just got here?"

"Yeah." Keith nodded, putting his hands into his pockets.

"The town's kinda big but there isn't as much to do as one would think with its size," Shiro explained. He tapped twice on the paper, as if finalizing in his head what he needed to do next. He walked over to the pile of metal, searching for the right one to forge.

"What about demons? Is there…Do you ever get any demonic activity?" Keith asked, walking over to Shiro.

Shiro paused, body stiff and Keith stopped in his tracks. He bit his lip nervously,  _ did I say something wrong? _

A pregnant pause passed. "Well now, activity is pretty rife. It wasn't like that a while ago, when we had a demon hunter to protect it. Plus, with more people coming in, thinking it's safe, the city, or town, or whatever, is getting pretty big too. Especially with whatever demons that tag along with them. At this point with a big city and no protector, it's practically bustling with demonic activity." Shiro's tone neither cold nor hard, just matter-of-fact, although Keith could hear the solemnity in it.

"What happened to the protector?" The question escaped Keith's lips before he could process it.

"He's gone now," Shiro answered. He picked up the iron billets from the neat mountain of it on the concrete floor and turned around, his eyes colder than the metal.

"Is that why you live, like a recluse, at the edge of town?" Keith asked after a while, trying to lighten the mood. He wanted to slap himself. He didn't want to sound rude, and now he probably ruined whatever he had been building since Shiro agreed to help him.

"Haha, no," Shiro gave him a fake laugh. "There are…other reasons too, anyway," he said, smiling a little.

Keith breathed a sigh of relief, glad that Shiro had not taken it to heart.  _ I should leave before I make an even bigger fool out of myself _ , he thought.

"Well, I'm gonna check out the town then." Keith strolled toward the opening in the metal. "But I may be back later," he added as he turned around to give Shiro a wave.

—————

Shiro was right. The town wasn't special, but that might have just been in the daytime. It looked like any ordinary place, Keith realized after walking around. He wondered if the demon that hunted him would tear down the place, wreck buildings, leave cracks of fire in the ground. The thought held him responsible if anything were to happen, causing him to end up back at Shiro's shed, shaking with anxiety.

The quietness of the forest soothed the fired up signals in his senses and brain, but his heart still palpitated a little faster than normal. It went even faster when he saw Shiro. Shiro had his back to him, just as he had when he had first seen. So far the biggest emotion Keith had felt was determination, tough and strong and raw, pushing him to his limit to get the blade done. And now that it was partly accomplished and on its way to completion, determination took a tiny step out of the spotlight.

It was a strange feeling. It was a sense of familiarity, or maybe it was just being in the Garrison again. That was the explanation he was going with for now. He felt like his heart was split into two with a red thread attached to both fragments. Coming here felt like a possibility of connecting the pieces back together after carrying around one heart fragment and leaving the other one here.

He didn’t know how but he  _ knew  _ Shiro. He just  _ knew  _ him.

"Back so soon?" Shiro asked, turning around at the sound of Keith's arrival.

"You were right, there's really nothing much to do around here. At least not in the day," Keith answered. Shiro motioned to the seat at his desk and Keith took it.

Shiro wore plastic goggles over his eyes, highlighting the scar on the bridge of his nose. He wore gloves that looked like they had been charred a thousand times over. Those gloved hands held tightly onto metal tongs, which clamped onto a long piece of metal.  _ That must have been the steel billets from just now, _ Keith noted, before inquiring about it.

"Yeah, it takes some time to warm it up before you can shape it. You're close but it's actually carbon steel with cast-iron and a little mix of other different kinds of steels. It a tedious process of elongating, folding, forge welding over and over again." Shiro gestured to the glowing embers of yellow to orange gradient and blue hues. "Persistent and observant. Must have been one hell of a demon hunter, huh?"

Keith didn’t know if it was a compliment or not. "Um, thanks I guess?"

Shiro wanted to slap himself. Maybe Keith's magnetic field was too strong for him to handle, either that or he hadn't talked to people for too long.

"But no, if I were a good demon hunter, I wouldn't be in this mess." He stared at his hands, wanting to tell the truth and everything else that came with it.  _ It feels completely crazy, but why do I feel like I can trust him,  _ Keith questioned himself. Shiro was still just a stranger he only met after all.

"My dad was a demon hunter so I grew up demon-hunting. That's probably the only reason why I am kind of good at it but, I'm sure as hell not a professional at it. The demon that I was hunting was for revenge and protection. It killed my dad and I thought…it was a stupid decision really, but it was about to wreck the town I was in, and I just couldn't stand by and just watch it destroy more people."

Shiro took out the metal and set it down on the anvil in front of Keith, whose head was now in his hands as he sat perched on the stool of the desk. Wanting to protect a town, the story was starting to sound too familiar for Shiro.

"That's a pretty noble thing to do. That's what demon hunters do, right?" Shiro's tone encouraging but Keith's head was still down.

"But I failed, I messed up big time. Now, the demon is still on my trail and soon, he'll be here looking to kick my sorry ass to hell with it. He'll destroy the town and it's gonna be my fault too. I just…I just want this to end already. I don't even know how I can…just solve this," Keith sighed into his palms.

Shiro walked over to Keith, wanting to pick up a hammer but instead paused next to him. Keith was too wrapped up in his own thoughts to even look up, consumed with the emotions that twist and turn his stomach. A hand on his shoulder unraveled those knots and he looked up to see Shiro's prosthetic arm on him.

"Hey, we're gonna make it. You're going to get that blade and you're going to kill that demon. I'm not going to give up on you. But most, importantly, you're not going to give up on yourself."

Shiro was surprised, he had never been this encouraging or even this positive since the incident. He was always hidden in the dark clouds, never coming down. Maybe it was because he related to him in this situation or maybe because he didn't want to see Keith like this. He didn't know Keith but somehow he also did.

"Thank you," Keith said, eyes sparkling a little with tears. Shiro nodded and went to get his hammer, an almost cylindrical weathered piece metal with wooden handle filled with cracks.

He wasn't sure why but whenever he looked up from his anvil at Keith watching him, his heart warmed a little, and made him blush a little more.

Keith watched as Shiro poured some water at the heel of the anvil. Every time he hammered the steel in front of him, he would go back to the water to cool the hammer before continuing to hit the steel again. This was something that Keith had never seen other bladesmiths or weapon makers do before.

"What's that for? I've never seen other people do it," Keith asked, letting his chin rest on top of his hands on the desk.

"It's a Japanese technique I picked up from my late grandfather." Shiro knew he didn't have to share but there was something about Keith that drew him closer, as if he had known him long before this.

"My grandfather was Japanese, and he…" Shiro paused for a second, looking down at the steel now vaguely shaped like a blade. "He practically raised me. He taught me everything I know about demons and bladesmithing and weapon making. He said I'd make a great demon hunter and a weapon maker one day. He explained to me that when the wet metal strikes the hot steel, it would sort of curve the blade but later when the steel contracts, it would produce just the right amount of hardness you would need in a blade."

"I see. He must have been a brilliant weapon maker," Keith said, his tone soft and almost comforting. He wanted to go up to him and put his hand on him, just as Shiro had done, but he didn’t want to overstep his boundaries.

"He was," Shiro said, before shaking his head as if clearing his thoughts.

"Anyway, you must be bored just watching me," Shiro said, setting his hammer down.

"It's fine. I don't mind watching you work," Keith replied casually. But actually, he enjoyed looking at Shiro's muscles ripple through his shirt, now soaked in sweat. Just as he had done yesterday, he stared at his rock-hard abs. He swallowed his spit, thinking to himself that this was truly the meaning of  _ the thirst is real, very, very real. _

Every time Shiro slammed the hammer down, it defined the meaning of muscular. His eyes traced each and every curve, as f he was an artist carving the man of his dreams. His eyes were glued to every inch of him, and all he could do was stare with wide eyes. Saliva should have been dripping out of his mouth and forming a swimming pool on the ground.

"Seriously, this must be boring," Shiro answered. "If you want, you could try out my new weapons. I've been meaning to try them out, but I haven't had the time yet, especially since I'm doing this." He gestured toward the molten shaped being formed into a blade on the anvil.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, you'll be doing me a favor. You can start with that one over there," Shiro replied, pointing to the sword on the table next to him. It was the one he had been forging yesterday.

"Sure," Keith said, getting up excitedly. The sword was beautiful, the intricate hilt with a matching gemstone at the base. Vines wrapped around the rest of the handle and Keith realized that they were the roots of the trees outside, right down to the texture of the wood, making it seem like the roots themselves were ripped out and dipped in metal.

He stood at the edge of the shed, swung the sword with precision, as if a demon was in front of him. It was already dark and the only lights were the fluorescent bulbs in the shed and the moonlight. Shiro traced the strong lines in Keith's swings and posture, each hit a smooth curve, slicing at darkness.

"Hit the fire opal at the bottom and swing it," Shiro instructed. "It activates it."

"Yes, sir," Keith answered and did as he was told. He gently pressed the stone, afraid and anticipating anything. When he swung, fire seemed to appear out of nowhere and turned into a flaming sword. It was only a gentle fire but Keith still stared in awe at it.

Shiro saw how the flame reflected in the glint of Keith's eyes and his shocked expression.

"I'm guessing you've never tried one out before?" Shiro asked from across the room.

"No, not at all," Keith said, still in awe.

"Well, you're going to have a better one than this."

Keith couldn’t imagine something better than this, yet it was already being promised to him. He had never seen elements and weapons together, as they were very separate parts of the spectrum of supernatural. He swung it around and Shiro couldn't help but smile with a little joy at Keith's little happiness.

"I'm done for tonight," Shiro said, putting down his hammer and stripped off his shirt that when drained, could have filled the sea.

"Oh yeah, okay, this sword is just amazing. It definitely works," Keith said, still looking at the sword while walking toward him. He was breathless, having played with the sword the entire time.

"Just wait till you get yours," Shiro said with a chuckle, walking toward Keith.

Still oblivious to the world around him, Keith walked and with his eyes locked on the sword, he crashed into what felt like a wall of steel billets.

Strong hands caught him immediately.

"Whoa there," Shiro said, catching him. Keith landed squarely in Shiro's sweaty chest and for the first time, he realized how big Shiro was. He seemed like a mountain in comparison to Keith's frame and Keith could only see how broad his shoulders and chest were.

"I'm sorry. A little too caught up with the sword, I guess," Keith stammered. His face was red, scarlet against pale skin, heating up hotter than the forge itself. His heart palpitated in his chest faster than when he was fighting demons.

Shiro's face felt like it was burning off, his scar nearly camouflaged in the blush of heat that was apparent not only on his face but probably spread throughout his body.

"I should add mesmerizing to the sword's abilities too, huh?"

Keith nervously laughed and Shiro joined in, holding him for a little too long before letting go faster than he would have wanted to. This was awkward. Way, way, way too awkward.

Having the spent the day with each other, it seemed that it still wasn't enough. They ended up eating pizza and drinking beer on the porch, gazing at the single, lone star and the wide full, smile of the moon.

Keith checked his phone, realizing how late he had spent talking to Shiro. It was nearly midnight and he didn't want to overstay his welcome. He felt like he was re-learning Shiro when he talked, every single detail of how he used his hands to describe things to the crinkle of the edges of his deep-set slate grey eyes. It was like he had known him his entire life. He wondered where Shiro had been his entire life.

And Shiro wondered the exact same thing.

That night, Keith could only think of the agreement to come back tomorrow morning to see his fitting sword before adding on the modifications. He tossed and turned in the cheap, light sheets of the motel. His face still wanted to blush every time he thought about his bump into Shiro. It should be nothing but just a small bump, an accident, but why, just why couldn't he stop smiling from it? He fell asleep, remembering Shiro's arms around him and only wished that they could really be there to hold him during his nightmares.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find the art [here](https://opaldelight.tumblr.com/post/178289857076/i-can-finally-post-my-sheithbigbang-entry-this). You can find Opaldelight on [Tumblr](https://opaldelight.tumblr.com/) and Apheliosan on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/apheliosan) and [AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/apheliosan/pseuds/apheliosan). 
> 
> Come talk to me at Misttiique on [Tumblr](https://misttiique.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/misttiique).


	3. Chapter 3

Looking into the mirror above the sink, Keith adjusted his hair and his jacket for the thousandth time. Butterflies swarmed his stomach, aching to be released. He bit his lip, wondering why exactly he was feeling this way. He was just going to see Shiro again, nothing special. And yet, he checked his teeth and fixed up his hair. He felt self-conscious about wearing nearly the same thing as yesterday but he hadn't had the time to get more clothes, another thing to add to his to-do list. Right now, his pulse raced as he sped off to the edge of town.

Shiro on the other hand, had been pacing around the shed for the past half an hour.  _ Just in case Keith's comes early,  _ he told himself. Pacing back and forth, he was going to end up with permanent groves in the concrete. He glanced up at the blade in front of him. It was now in the shape of a katana but he still would have to adjust the tang, grind the rough surfaces of the blade and mark it. The part he was most proud of was the tapered edge, forming a sharp point, as if it could slice someone just by looking at it. It reminded him of Keith's quick pace and sharp wit, bringing yet another grin to his face.

"Hey," Keith called, walking up to the shed after parking his hoverbike at its usual spot.

"Hey," Shiro replied, rather shyly. He was in another t-shirt and black ripped jeans, and Keith could only gaze hopelessly.

"So what are we going to do today?" Keith was buzzing with excitement, even if he was just going to test out weapons and watch Shiro, he would have considered it a productive use of his time.

"We are going to measure your hands to adjust the fit, then we're going to go get some materials for the modifications. We'll be swinging by Allura's bar to collect those from my sources."

Keith nodded, half-wondering who could be Shiro's 'sources' and the other half questioning 'modifications' and the association with 'bar', but he trusted where Shiro may be going with this. 

"Can you spread out your hands?"

Keith did as he was asked and splayed them out onto the table for Shiro to measure with his measuring tape. Shiro noticed the lines running down Keith's calloused hands that had turned white and some that remained slightly pink. He wondered what it must be like to hold those hands.

Keith looked at Shiro's hands, more scarred than his own. The scars were of varying shape, size and colour. Keith guessed they must have been from forging blades but as his eyes ran over to Shiro's large arms, he knew from seeing his bare chest that those scars went further than his hands.

His prosthetic arm should have been the most striking part of Shiro but Keith had only taken a good look at it now. It looked like it was made from titanium and was silver for the most part. The rest of the metal was black and wrapped in symmetrical lines, tracing his knuckles and forearms, ending at his bicep, where the prosthetic had seemed to be seared in from the burn marks that outlines the end of his arm and the start of the prosthetic.

Keith wanted to know where the scars and the prosthetic came from but talking about scars usually brought back memories of pain, from his own experience, and he didn't want to risk it with their new relationship.

Shiro hummed while measuring his hands and went over to the blade to measure it against the tang. "Perfect fit," he murmured, just as he had estimated.

Grabbing his leather jacket, Shiro reached for his keys to his hoverbike, the latest version compared to Keith's outdated red. It was licorice and gleamed from the love of its owner.

"You're full of surprises," Keith said, staring at the bike. "That sure is a pretty bike you have there."

"Well, how do you think I get around then?" Shiro answered with a laugh. "But it sure is, if I must say so myself. I've added modifications to it too."

The black and red hoverbikes were in sync, forming parallel red and black lines that whizzed through the town. There was no doubt that the black one was faster and Shiro used this as an opportunity to show off his speed modifications.

"Showoff," Keith shouted with fake anger when Shiro overtook him.

They parked right in front of Allura's bar. Taking off their helmets, Shiro's eyes were glued to the way Keith gracefully took off his, swinging his hair back, as if he was a model in a commercial for hoverbikes.

"We can add modifications to your bike, if you…you…want." Shiro tore his eyes away from Keith and tried to change the subject.

"That would be great, just so I can be faster than you," Keith replied, playfully punching Shiro's arm and only feeling the hard muscle underneath.

Shiro chuckled in response, feeling only bubbling laughter escape his lips. "Anyway, they're waiting for us so we should hurry up," he murmured, noticing the blue sports car and neon green hoverbike parked in front of the bar next to them.

"Who knew someone like you would have friends," Keith joked. But seriously, who could stand Shiro's attitude? Okay, maybe Shiro wasn't that bad as he had thought if one had gotten to know him but Shiro, though he felt familiar, still had an air of mystery surrounding him.

The bar was a lot quieter in the day, seeing that most of its patrons were nocturnal. Dimly lit as the last time he went there, Keith breathed in the same scent, with the addition of some other new odours - more flowery with a hint of spice. The table closest to the bar table was the only occupied one.

Keith let Shiro take the lead as he strode through the bar, boots echoing on the hard wooden floor. He had a confident aura around him, as if he had been here a hundred times before. He may very well have, but Keith wouldn’t know. He followed quietly behind Shiro as 5 pairs of eyes gathered around the table turned to look at them.

"Oh look who we have here? Shiro and the lone wolf," A lanky, brown-eyed and haired guy about Keith's age called out. Now Keith had second thoughts. Where were they before this? It was so unlike him to follow someone to some dark bar, with no weapons to defend himself. Yet he trusted that Shiro knew what he was doing and wasn't leading him into a trap. But maybe Keith was the only person paranoid enough to think that even though he partly trusted the other man to an extent.

Next to him, a boulder-sized olive-skinned guy with a yellow bandana elbowed him, his face stern.

"Yeah, Allura told us about the new demon hunter in town. Wonder what could he be up to…." The voice came from a petite girl with large glasses perched on her sharp nose, who took one glance at them before boredly turning back to her blue screen.

Keith wanted to leave, the coldness spreading all around him, making his unwelcomeness felt. The chill was nearly strong enough to freeze him. He wanted nothing more than to make a full 180 and walk back out of the bar. But Shiro continued his stride toward them, as if he was used to it. Despite what his head was telling him, Keith moved hesitantly behind Shiro.

"Sorry about that, guys. Lance is just being Lance. But anyway, welcome back I guess, Shiro? It's been a while since we've seen you," said the larger one, his face breaking into a small smile as Shiro and Keith reached their table and stood side-by-side.

"Yeah, it's been awhile. How have you guys been?" Shiro asked them cordially. It seemed Keith's role for today was watching things play out.

"We've been good, business has been somewhat okay. Matt and Dad have been asking for you. Come sit down." The petite girl finally looked up at Shiro, offering him a smile and a chair.

Keith knew he was an outsider and that he was just here to follow so Shiro could make his blade and finish his job. He looked around awkwardly, trying to find a space where he thought he may fit and disappear from this situation. Or the ground could just open its mouth and swallow him whole, that could work as well.

He could sense the discomfort in the air as Coran got up to get everyone drinks. It was a pregnant pause before Shiro sat down, but not before he pulled a chair from a nearby table and placed it next to him. He motioned for Keith to sit, which he did so obediently, before sitting down himself.

"I told them because I was worried about anything else coming to this town," Allura broke the silence. Coran came back, carrying some fairy potion in tiny glass cups, but all eyes remained on Allura as she continued. "They may bring demons with them and I just…I just wanted to be sure…"

This time Coran spoke, "And after he asked for Shiro the other day, it seemed confirmed. Plus, the fact that Shiro called them a couple of days later, we knew something was up."

"What is the situation exactly?" Keith couldn’t help but ask. So far, no one had spoken to him directly, yet they spoke about him. He felt like he should know what was going on.

"I'm sorry, I should probably introduce everyone," Shiro said. "You already met Allura and Coran. But the people I mentioned with the modifications we needed to especially meet today are these three. They are known around here as the Garrison Trio, the best mod makers around. That's Lance, Hunk, and Pidge." Shiro pointed at the tall guy, followed by the larger one and finally the petite girl.

"Okay, if we're here to get whatever we need for the blade, why the sudden talk about 'situations'? You didn't say anything about it. "

"Because I wasn't sure you'd want to get into this. I know you came here for your blade, and I don't want you to get yourself into something you might regret. I know a demon hunter's purpose but I don't want anybody getting hurt."

Shiro's tone made it evident that it was the truth.  _ But why _ , Keith wanted to question. Maybe it was after what he had told Shiro about his past the previous day, a small part of his brain told him.  _ But still _ , he tried to counter it,  _ I don’t need anyone protecting me or making decisions for me.  _ If there was anything he learned from being alone, it was that that was the best way to survive, especially when demon hunting was your job.  _ You'd hurt a lot less _ , he reminded himself constantly.

Keith wanted to fight back but he knew that this truth needed to be told. Ultimately,  _ morally _ , he knew that if he could help as a demon hunter in some way, he would do it.

Allura looked at him, as if to confirm that he was sure. He nodded curtly.

"I've seen something coming here. It seems to be a fire demon, and it's looking for Keith. Timing is always relative in my visions but Zarkon is coming. The fire demon."

Keith had blocked out his name entirely from his mind. He knew he shouldn't because it would haunt him later. But ignorance can be bliss, even if it was only for a short while.

"And he's not alone. Lotor is with him."

"Bringing his son along? A little suspicious, don't you think?" Coran pointed out. "If he came here for Keith then, why bring the backup?"

"Yeah, I agree," Pidge murmured. "But Keith? I get he's a demon hunter but still….what are the odds?"

Shiro turned to look at him, wanting to tell him that he didn't have to say everything about Zarkon or what happened between them. Somehow it seemed like Keith could read his mind with just one look.

"Zarkon broke my blade, and odds are he’s not done with me yet.." Keith put that forward together with the rest of the story he'd told Shiro only yesterday.

"I mean since Zarkon and Lotor are on their way, probably to destroy this town, then it really means shit’s going to hit the fan, right? No point in hiding anyway," he finished with a sigh, staring at his palms, trying to avoid eye contact. He chewed on his lip stopping short before he turned it into a bloody pulp — just like how his body would be when not just Zarkon now, but Lotor too, were done with him.

Shiro put his hand on his palm. Keith was in utter shock at the gesture. At first, wanted to sharply pull his hand away out of habit. But oddly, it did not feel as bad as he thought. In fact, it was somewhat comforting, even though he didn’t know comfort well enough to to be sure.

"So it looks like we have our work cut out for us. That's why I need those mods and fast," Shiro said.

"Don't worry guys, I think the Garrison Trio have got y'all covered," Hunk replied.

"Yes, we can help them," Allura said with a nod that was followed by more nods all around the table.

"But this may cost us everything, you know. Especially if he doesn’t succeed in killing them," Lance countered. The entire time Keith had spoken before, Lance had the same frown on his face, unconvinced.

"Lance, honey, I love you with all my heart but we can't just not do nothing about this," Hunk murmured gently. "I mean yes, you do have a point, but we need to do this for the greater good. And this time, we can actually do something, make something happen, defeat evil."

"For the greater good, my ass," Lance answered, rolling his eyes. Still, he knew Hunk had a point. "Okay fine, I can't say no to my boyfriend when he's that convincing."

Hunk held Lance's hand, gazing at him with a soft smile. Lance rubbed the back of Hunk's hand and gazed into his warm brown eyes. He looked as if he was about to melt right there and then, leaving only a gooey, messy puddle of warm feelings like tempered chocolate on the floor.

Everyone else looked away, as if used to it by now, even Shiro turned away a little. Keith just stared. He had no idea why he was staring, but an ache seemed to grow from the bottom of his belly and move toward his sternum before spreading like icy frost. He bit his lip and finally managed to pull his eyes away, the ache still lingering with its cold touch on the edges of his heart. He snuck a peek at Shiro, who also happened to be glancing at him at the same time. He immediately turned away, heart racing a little.

It was only after Pidge's conspicuous cough that Lance and Hunk pulled apart. "Guys," she reminded them, "we're not going to be able to spend the rest of our lives together if we don’t have any lives left to live."

"I suggest we go through what mods we may need and decide on a plan of action. From what you told me, Shiro, I think we can sorta figure out the specifications of each mod. We just need to bear in mind how much power the blade will be able to take."

"Understood." Shiro nodded and Keith finally looked up.

"That goes for you too, Keith. It's your blade," Pidge added. She placed her screen on the table and enlarged it so the entire table to see. Pidge, Lance and Hunk pointed at various parts of the screen, zooming in on every detail and explaining at length what each mod was supposed to do. It seemed like a full powerpoint presentation that they delivered with expertise, not stopping even once to take a breath. Shiro was right about them being professionals at this.

"So like all good enchanted blades, there must be the essential agility, strength, stamina, and last but not least, as we've discussed, the elemental property of fire," Pidge said.

"Now, when I say it's not going to be easy getting fire into that thing, I really mean that it's not going to be easy getting fire into that thing. But Shiro's the boss of enchanted weapons like these so whatever he says goes." She folded her arms proudly over her chest.

"It's definitely going to be one hell of a weapon from the sound of it," Hunk agreed, putting an arm around Lance, who said, "Yeah, it better do its job right."

Keith bit his lip again, nervous with the mounting pressure. He had to do this and get it right. There was no other option.

"Shiro, I need you to follow me to the back and help me get the mods together," Pidge ordered, moving out of her seat toward the bar.

"I may have a few new enchantments too, which you may find useful." Allura got up and followed behind Pidge and Coran followed suit. That only left Shiro to be the last to leave the table.

Keith's eyes trailed after Shiro as he walked behind the counter of the bar and disappear into the back room.

It took no time at all for Lance to rapid-fire questions at him. "Since when have you been around here?" he asked, resting his head on his hands as he prepared himself for whatever information Keith was about to spill.

"Don't feel pressured to answer everything, but we were just concerned about what's happening. And Shiro’s our friend," Hunk said, shooting Lance a warning look that Lance responded with a shrug.

He didn't know Keith enough to know Keith was a brick wall.

"It's alright. I'm not sure if Coran or Allura mentioned but I came here for a weapon after something happened to mine. They told me to see Shiro and that's how it got started."

They nodded thoughtfully before Lance probed again. "You watched Shiro work in his shed, and he asked you to come here?"

"Um, yeah," Keith answered. He narrowed his eyes before speaking again, "Is there something wrong with that?"

"Does Shiro mean something to you or you to him?"

"What?" Keith was shocked. "If it wasn’t clear before, I'm just his client. I only met him a few days ago. I…I'm sorry but what does this have to do with the blade and the whole mission?"

Keith should have been angry but instead was honestly a little embarrassed. Was he staring at Shiro too long? Was he hovering around him too much? Keith wanted to think about Shiro and what he meant to him, but stopped himself. He did not have a clue about what kind of floodgate thoughts like that might open up.

"I'm sorry," Hunk apologized. "I think my boyfriend just meant that Shiro is well…I don't know how close you two are…and I'm not sure he's told you anything, but he's had a difficult past. A lot harder than most of us. Um, even as our friend, there's still a lot we don't really know about him. Like, we aren't allowed to ever come into his shed. We do vaguely know where it is and all, but when Allura gave you the address, she must have seen something in those visions, man. Something important that made her give it to you. For you to actually find it even is another thing because...wow, that place is encrypted with a forest maze. No one can find him unless he wants you to. It's honestly the next level of going off the grid, if you ask me." Hunk laughed bitterly but Keith pressed his lips together, putting the puzzle pieces together.

"Yeah, Shiro's just different now. We've known him for a long, long time. Way back from...I think, like when he was still the protector slash demon hunter of this town. Before his capture by that demon. After that, he just wasn't himself anymore," Lance continued from Hunk.

Hunk turned around at him, wide-eyed. "We’re not supposed to talk about that, Lance," he said with clenched teeth.

"I'm sorry, we were on that subject and it just slipped out." Lance raised his hands in the air, surrendering.

"Anyway, he must really trust you then, to bring you into his shed and to meet us too. He never does that with other clients."

"I see." Keith nodded slowly, processing everything.

The sound of boots echoed on the wooden floor, and Keith turned away from Lance and Hunk toward Shiro with a black bag slung over his shoulder. He seemed to be in a better mood. Keith could tell from the way he didn't drag his feet and swayed his arms a little more than usual.

"All ready to go?" Shiro asked. Keith said his goodbyes and strode off with Shiro back to his shed. The entire ride back, Keith distractedly wondered more about Shiro's past. He had no right to question him about it, but Keith had shared his story so in some way he felt like Shiro should reciprocate too. He didn't know if he actually wanted to know or not but then he remembered Lance's question:  _ "Does Shiro mean something to you or you to him?" _

Well, did he? Keith questioned himself. His only answer was the memory of how it felt when he was with Shiro, as if he had walked through the door of his home and a wave of calming relief washed over him. A feeling of finally being safe and sound. He had thought so before, and the feeling still lingered. It was as if he'd knew Shiro from before but just couldn’t recall when.

And if he had to be perfectly truthful to himself, Keith thought, Shiro could have stirred up his feelings a little. He certainly had been thinking about him long enough. He wanted to analyze why exactly Shiro would treat him like that. But that begged the question, what did Shiro feel for him if he meant anything at all?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find the art [here](https://opaldelight.tumblr.com/post/178289857076/i-can-finally-post-my-sheithbigbang-entry-this). You can find Opaldelight on [Tumblr](https://opaldelight.tumblr.com/) and Apheliosan on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/apheliosan) and [AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/apheliosan/pseuds/apheliosan). 
> 
> Come talk to me at Misttiique on [Tumblr](https://misttiique.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/misttiique).


	4. Chapter 4

The ride back to the shack was as serene as it could be, weaving through thin lanes of the forest. Keith remembered what Lance and Hunk had said about the forest being a labyrinth, and they were right. He tried keeping track of his progress by remembering the routes they took, and although Keith was good at navigation, he still couldn’t pinpoint their exact location or where exactly they were headed. All he could do was follow Shiro, who was being unusually quiet, even quieter than before. Keith assumed he was just thinking and didn't want to get into his head space. But the questions he had still disturbed him. He had placed them in the far corners of his mind because he worried that asking them may be inching too close toward the line of personal boundaries. But still, why would Shiro let him be this close? Even the people that Shiro had seemed to know for the longest time couldn't step past those boundaries.

They parked their bikes at their usual places, and Shiro laid out all the different mods for the blade. The mods came in the forms of various gemstones, metallic buttons, steel pins, more metallic pieces and a large fire opal.

They were laid systematically out with each piece having its own place. Keith placed his hands on the edge of the table and leaned forward, staring at the mysterious items before him, fascinated at their potential properties. The thought that he would have to defeat evil with them was another worry that he hadn't been able to shake away, like clouds hiding the sun.

Shiro came up from behind and placed a hand on his shoulder, making Keith notice his surroundings once more. He had no idea how long he'd been standing there with that anxious look on his face. 

"The blade's gonna be done soon, don't worry about it," Shiro reassured him. Keith could swear that there was something in his voice that could magically remove all his fears in an instant. And then there was that feeling again. Familiarity. It was unmistakable, as if Keith had known it all his life. It was like a string was tied with one end around his heart and the other end around Shiro's that led Keith straight to him.

Keith shifted a little but kept Shiro's hand remained on his shoulder. He stared down at the items, not wanting to make eye contact. "I'm not worried. After all, I am a demon hunter, right?" he laughed, torn between saying what he really meant and pushing people away as he was used to.

"I know, but it's a lot of take in, especially all at once. I'm really sorry for just bringing up everything like that. It wasn't fair to throw all of that at you without asking if you were even alright with knowing."

"No, you're right. I just…I understand that everyone's gonna be concerned when their town and homes are at stake. You did what you had to do. Besides, I probably owe you that much, especially since you're making my blade, and I'm the one leading the evil here."

Shiro nodded, glad that they were at an understanding on this. If Keith wasn't here, he'd have to do it. But he wasn't even sure how he would do it, especially after what had happened last time.

He worked in silence, fixing each piece onto the blade while Keith watched, eyes glimmering, reflecting the sunlight. Shiro realized that there were actually silver flakes shimmering inside, making them sparkle even more. Keith was quiet too, contemplating letting his curiosity get the better of him.

All this time, he had wondered why Shiro was willing to help him. He had no right to question but he felt the need to know. He knew it must have been related to Shiro's past somehow. He just didn't feel right like this, scared he'd been over-imposing. All this time he talked about himself, but Shiro had never mentioned anything about his past in return. Even his friends weren't clear about it. He repeated in his head all the events that happened in the last few days since he had arrived and the question had never been more puzzling. Why exactly would Shiro want to help him?

It shocked him that he blurted it out. "Shiro, I know this may be too personal a question, so you don't have to answer it if you don't want to, but I was wondering why you decided to help me? You turned me down at first, but after I explained my situation, you suddenly agreed. And your friends told me no one has gotten this close to you ever, so why me?"

Shiro stopped fixing and placed the steel pin down. He sighed before taking a seat. "Allura told me you would need to know sooner or later."

"I used to be the demon hunter of this town— the best one around. That was how I heard about you and your dad."

Keith could see Shiro's fist clench, his human hand flashing white knuckles. He sat opposite him and leaned in.

"Then, it happened. Zarkon, the demon that is currently hunting you, has been here before. There was a battle, and I…I lost. I couldn't protect the town so, in exchange for leaving this town alone, he took me prisoner. More like captured, actually…But anyway, while I was away, Zarkon and his horde of demons tortured me for all the information I knew about killing demons. Because I've killed one of their own, they...ripped off my arm. They burned it off, with the fire from their powers. They…" Shiro was struggling for words now, fists were shaking.

Keith put his hand over them, rubbing them gently. "You don’t have to say more if you don’t want to." Keith knew how much Shiro was pouring out right now. At this moment, Keith saw him not as the best enchanted weapon maker or professional demon hunter, but just a person. Someone smaller and more fragile.

"No, it's just a lot for me to get out. What they did…to me… When they gave me this new arm, it was to destroy me from the inside. They filled it up with some demon power, so that I would never fight one of their own again. It coursed through my veins, and something about me just changed that day. My hair…it turned white the second the arm was attached. It doesn't just feel like the blood that’s in me but the essence of demons. That's why when I managed to escape, I couldn't go back to how things were…I couldn't go back to how I used to be. I could no longer fight demons, I could no longer protect this town, as I should have in the first place. Takashi Shirogane was gone. The only thing left that I could do besides demon hunting was bladesmithing. If I can't defeat them, all I can do is try to make something that can. And bladesmithing is just something that I could channel everything I felt into." Tears ran down Shiro's cheeks, but he still continued. Keith was still holding onto Shiro's hands, supporting him as he relived the hell phase of his life. It had always been unspeakable, but to Keith, it wasn't.

"And when I met you, it was as if I had met myself all that time ago. And sometimes, all of us need a helping hand."

Shiro knew that it was more than, that but how could he explain their intangible connection?  He felt as if he had known Keith his entire life. Would Keith understand? Even reciprocate? Either way, it felt better that after these few years, he was finally able to tell someone about it.

"Shiro, what you did was something noble. You made a huge sacrifice. And I'm sorry this happened and that I'm bringing everything back again. But no matter what happens, we're going to do this. We are going to kill Zarkon and whoever he brings along. We are going to set things right."

Shiro nodded, using the back of his hand to wipe his tears. He chuckled as if his raw pain was something not to be noticed. "Wow, okay, that was emotional. Thank you, Keith…for understanding. I've never told anyone else…so if you wouldn't mind telling other people…I, um, have a reputation to keep."

"Well, a fake reputation is all a man has. And we wouldn't want that." Keith laughed back in an attempt to lighten the heavy mood.

"So, um, anyway back to your blade. I'm just gonna need to taper a bit of the edge and grind it a little. After that, it should be done."

"Sure," Keith replied. As Shiro set off back to work, Keith traced the lines in the wooden table where they had sat. The lines connected someway, somehow. The table was scarred too, with creases where blades had gone in, scratches on the edges and soot and other burn marks. Yet, the table was still strong, stable. They reminded him of Shiro, and Keith promised himself that he was going to kill those demons.

\-----

"So the black leather aesthetic, huh?" Shiro asked, looking up from where he was intricately weaving the last of the shiny leather strap over the handle of the blade.

"Yup, absolutely. Even a demon hunter has to have an aesthetic, am I right?" Keith answered with a smirk, as if he knew anything about having one.

"Sure, and maybe goth might not suit everyone but it could really be your thing." Shiro chuckled, glancing up at Keith, who furrowed his eyebrows and narrowed eyes in mock anger at first but then smiled and playfully punched Shiro's shoulder.

"If I'm goth, you're becoming one too."

"Over my dead body."

"See, you just proved my point that you're a goth."

The way Keith smiled felt like a thousand suns shining on him, taking Shiro's breath away.

Shiro tied the last knot before giving the blade a final inspection. The blade glinted in the now almost fading light of the day, and the gem on the hilt shone along with it. The blade had been thermo-cycled and heat-treated over and over again until it was sharp enough and the spine was hard enough. It was going to be strong and it was going to be durable. After all, it had taken inspiration from its maker and also its new owner.

Shiro ceremoniously lifted the blade and presented it, as if it were a precious gift, to Keith.

"Your blade," Shiro murmured and with a small bow, giving Keith his new weapon.

Keith's breath caught in his throat, as if Shiro just proposed to him. He had never seen a blade quite like it, with all its features and all its intricate design. It was his old blade passed from his father but so much more. It was him but better. From the razor-thin edge to the curves of the tinier waves decorating the handle to the leather weaving and finally, to the fire opal at the hilt of the blade. It winked at him as he stared at it, mouth agape.

"Try it out," Shiro said, enjoying his reaction. "Swing it outward."

The blade was a tanto but with both hands, he clutched the blade to his heart before swinging out. With a shower of sparks like tiny lightning bugs, the blade lengthened into a katana. Keith felt like his jaw had dropped on the floor and broken instantly.

"Wow" was the only sound that could escape his lips.

"Now, hit the gem on the end of it," Shiro instructed, beaming at him. He folded his arms proudly across his chest.

And Keith did. Just as he had tried out the first one, the blade of his now katana seemed to drip fire from where his hands were all the way to its pointed tip. It blazed before him, as if he was in the presence of something magical. This was pure magic before his eyes, the flames reflecting back at him. Keith was about to pass out with sheer joy. He could feel the heat being emitted from it, and if he had his face any closer, his eyelashes and eyebrows would be singed off.

He swung the blade downward, back to his side and immediately, the fire went out and shrunk from a katana to a tanto again.

He nearly dropped the blade as he ran to Shiro and wrapped his arms around him. "Thank you so, so, so, so much."

Keith was the type of person that avoided human contact at all costs but he squeezed Shiro as hard as possible. Keith was shocked the first time he had seen one of Shiro's blades, but this was taking it to a whole new level. This blade was his and it had all these incredible abilities. They were all his. Keith felt that he was about to burst with happiness.

Shiro was so completely taken aback by Keith's display of affection that he quite literally stumbled back when Keith embraced him. He placed one foot behind him to steady himself. Finally, after a moment, he put his arms around Keith.

It had been a long while since he had human contact, especially in this way. And for a split second, Shiro closed his eyes and let himself go.

They realized that they'd been hugging for a span of time that should have been cut short some time ago and finally pulled apart. Keith was breathless, elated at his new blade, like a child being given his first Christmas present.

Shiro couldn’t help but smile along with Keith.

"Shiro. This is just wow, I just…I just can't believe this…Thank you, Shiro," Keith said. "This blade is amazing. I'm speechless right now."

"Wait, don't thank me yet," Shiro responded. "We still need to test it out."

"Test it out?" Keith asked, curious. "But it's already done and ready to be used, right?"

"It is but the only way to know it really works is to use it. And I know just the place."

"Wait, we're going demon hunting, like now?" Keith asked, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Well, we gotta test the blade right?"

\-----

"There's a demon here somewhere, I just know it. I've seen it a couple of times before. I think it's a Myzax species or something like that," Shiro said, leading the way uphill from the shack. Keith followed behind him, into the cold night air, wearing nothing more than what they had worn inside. All around them, the forest was still except for the occasional scuttle of the animals that awoke only at night, the rustle of leaves, and the march of their boots. Keith could tell he was excited but he didn’t know if it was seeing his weapon in action or seeing Keith use it.

He wanted to shiver as they had been outside for some time. The only light sources were from the moon, half-way obstructed by the clouds, and Shiro's torch. Shiro whistled as he walked, as if sending out a signal that they were there.

"Almost there, we just need to lure it out," Shiro continued.

Keith could be pretty reckless at times, but he wasn't sure about this. "Are you sure, Shiro? We're luring out a demon and who knows what else."

"I live in these woods, and I'm not afraid. Besides, as demon hunters, we should be pretty used to these kinds of things, right? And we need to test the blade too."

"Fine. But only for the sake of the blade," Keith answered, his breath creating a cloud in the air.

Shiro stopped whistling and turned off the flashlight, enclosing them in darkness before shouting an incantation at the top of his lungs. Keith thought it was Latin at first, but realized that it was another ancient language, older than Latin.

There was only silence left. No more rustling. Even the nocturnal animals were quiet. Keith could hear the click of the torch in front of them and the burst of light. Just as the whistling was a signal to attract demons around them, the light and incantation was enough bait for one to lunge at them.

It was an ogre-like demon with a boulder-like head and pointed teeth that could rip anything apart. It was bigger than both of them and charged with enough force to shake the hill they were on. Keith dodged the first attack from the demon, and the second, and the third, as if playing a game of cat and mouse. But Keith was about to get his claws out as he steeled himself and swung the blade in his hand, transforming it from a tanto to a katana. The sword fired up immediately in response. It seemed to be alive in his hands, the fire growing from the command of the stone but this time much bigger. There was no time to ponder why. Instead, he swung the katana, aiming it straight at the demon.

The demon went in with its right fist, intending to smash him but the edge of the blade met with its wrist. The motion of it forced the demon’s hand the ground in a sound crash. The edge severed it but the fire seemed to burn through it, leaving only a stump and the smell of burning flesh, cauterizing the wound. The demon's eyes were light yellow but now they glowed amber as it howled in pain and fury and lunged forward again. It reached out, nearly toppling Keith over.

Keith was unfazed and with precision, swung the blade, slicing the demon's arm. It lunged forward with its only arm again, as if not learning its lesson. Keith cut that arm off as well, causing a painful scream to escape from the demon's mouth, which echoed through the forest.

The demon stumbled back, and Keith took the opening to slash it across its abdomen. Blood gushed from its wounds as if opening a dam of blood. The air never smelled more like salt, rust, and burning meat. The flames from the blade were blurred, making the blade seem to be made out of pure light.

Still, the demon persisted, even as its body dropped and crawled toward them. Somehow blood made it out through its mouth and poured out all over the ground at them. Keith felt the rush of adrenaline through his veins once more as he moved out of the demon's path. It snarled at him with ferocity and seemed to wriggle toward him before Keith slammed the still-burning blade through its head. There was the unmistakable crack, then the drop in movement and last gasp of air. It was dead.

The fire licked the demons head, enjoying its taste of violence. It consumed the rest of the body, even after Keith pulled the blade out of its skull. He felt something squish inside its head and the further crack of its skull as he lifted it out.

He was sweating from the adrenaline and from the heat of the blade, the cool of the night was forgotten altogether. He was breathless but happy that he still had his skills. It was only then that he realized Shiro was there, awestruck. He had almost forgotten Shiro was there because when he was in battle mode, nothing could distract him.

"Now, that's why they call you the professional demon hunter, Keith Kogane. You really are talented," Shiro commended him.

"I have never ever seen power like that."

"It's nothing. I mean, it's just training that I just happen to do a lot." Keith blushed. "And this was an easy target anyway."

Shiro grinned. "Don't be so modest, Keith. You're gonna kill Zarkon. And thanks for killing the demon too, it’s been wandering around here a lot, looking for prey. You made the town a whole lot safer too."

Keith smiled, knowing he did a good job. "We'll still have to see about Zarkon though. That's a tough one." His tone modest, as he felt the rush of blood to his cheeks.

"But you can do it. We can do it. I'll help you with whatever you need."

"Thanks. You could start by giving me a little more tips from your time being a demon hunter. After all, I could definitely learn a thing or two from an ex-demon hunter that carried the weight of a whole town."

Shiro smiled. "Sure, I'd like that very much."

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find the art [here](https://opaldelight.tumblr.com/post/178289857076/i-can-finally-post-my-sheithbigbang-entry-this). You can find Opaldelight on [Tumblr](https://opaldelight.tumblr.com/) and Apheliosan on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/apheliosan) and [AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/apheliosan/pseuds/apheliosan). 
> 
> Come talk to me at Misttiique on [Tumblr](https://misttiique.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/misttiique).


	5. Chapter 5

The night seemed to have no end. The demon they killed to test the blade was only their first, and the forest around them was no longer quiet when they started their training.

Keith was good but Shiro wanted him to be the best, better than he had ever was.

"Keep your arms closer in," Shiro adjusted Keith's arms from behind him. With a foot, he nudged Keith's leg a little more to the right, teaching him a more stable position.

Lately, the more time Keith spent with Shiro, the more he felt like he was home. Lately, whenever Shiro touched him, Keith could feel electricity run through his skin. Lately, Keith felt like he wanted something more. He wondered if Shiro just had that effect on people, but remembering what Shiro's friends had said about him and how Shiro had confessed his past made Keith think again.

Keith knew there should be limits in every relationship and since they were best friends now, he didn’t want things to be weird between them. Yet, the touch of Shiro's skin on Keith's bare arms may as well have triggered the flames on his katana to burn higher before him.

"The fire power is a lot more than I had thought it would have been. It must be a particularly powerful fire opal Pidge gave," Shiro thought out loud.

"Mhmm, must be," Keith replied. When he was with fire, it seemed that something in him just clicked, and he felt more powerful than ever. It was as if the fire wasn’t from the weapon, but infused in his blood as it shot sparks through his veins.

Keith swung down hard on the bark of a tree and with graceful steps, he seemed to dance as he pretended to hit an imaginary target. The blade glowed before him as he was offering light to the heavens.

It had been almost a month since they started training. A few days ago, Allura called Shiro to warn him about being prepared. She had seen a vision of Zarkon coming, and it seemed like it was in just a few days time. Keith's heart shook in his chest and sank a little. Sure, he was afraid, as anyone would be. But once the battle was over, it would mean that it was time for Keith to move on.

Keith didn’t want his time with Shiro to end. It felt too short but he knew there were priorities. He spent the month learning from Shiro and about Shiro. For once, he was actually thankful that he was attacked.

Keith slowed down, pausing to take a breath. Shiro studied his form, a hand placed under his chin and the other crossed over his chest. "If anything, remember patience yields focus. Concentrate on your target and strike. You're doing pretty well. Although, I think we should work on stamina next," he suggested.

Keith nodded and walked over to Shiro's side to grab his water bottle.

"I've also arranged for you to get a new suit, a proper one for demon hunting. Hunk's dropping it off by the bar in a while. The Garrison Trio thought it'd be nice to get you a good luck gift."

"They shouldn't have. I haven't done anything yet," Keith replied but really, he was touched. He never had people give him this sort of treatment before.

"Well, they've noticed that the town's been more clear of demons this past month, less of them hunting us."

"Yeah, well, that was just us training anyway."

Shiro placed a hand on his shoulder and Keith could feel it on his heart. "I'm proud of you, Keith."

Keith could feel his heart break away into tiny birds flying all around him in joy. He smiled softly even though he was doing his happy dance inside.

\-----

Keith tried his suit on. It was a fitted black and dark purple leather suit with a hood. It came with matching boots and fingerless gloves. Red lines traced its sharp edges and a scarlet belt complemented the look. The lines framed his shoulders, chest and collar, making his angular face stand out. He stared into the mirror in Shiro's closet, amazed at how well the suit fit, despite it not being measured for him. He looked powerful. He  _ felt _ powerful, as he should have. After all, he was a professional demon hunter going for his next kill.

"You should thank Lance for the suit, he's got talent when it comes to making outfits for demon hunting," Shiro said from the doorway, as if reading his mind.

"I'll remember that the next time I see him," Keith answered. He was happy with the suit but he couldn't stop feeling the start of the incoming panic of fighting Zarkon. "Did Allura tell you when and how it's going to go?"

"Yeah, she did." Shiro stopped leaning and stood up straight. "Midnight, tonight."

Keith took a deep breath, visibly afraid now. He didn’t expect it to be this soon. He should have felt relief but he was worried. He had no trouble fighting normal demons - it was his job. But this was Zarkon, someone that took everything from him. He needed to do this for the town and for Shiro too.

"Hey, I know you're scared but think of it this way: we've been training so hard and you're the best demon hunter I've ever seen. You're going to do this, and you're going to come out on top. Besides, you've killed so many demons before, this will just be another one." Keith stared into Shiro's eyes as he spoke, mesmerized yet, memorizing everything he said.

"I hope so. We're using fire against fire here but I guess that's the best that we can do."

"Remember patience yields focus. Whatever happens, I'll be right there with you, okay? You're not going to do this alone."

This time, it was Shiro that reached out and placed his hand on Keith's. It was warm and Keith needed it.

\-----

As Allura had instructed, Keith and Shiro rode their hoverbikes further down past the entrance of the town. The ride seemed longer than usual from Shiro's place in the forest to the destination, located in what seemed the middle of nowhere.

Keith's bike was now as heavily modified as Shiro's was. Its red front had been exchanged for black with purple contours, allowing for camouflage and greater speed — another thing that Shiro had insisted on. Keith didn’t know how much he owed Shiro anymore, considering he had gotten a priceless blade from him among other things. But Shiro assured Keith that he was helping their entire town out, and that was enough.

It was a windy night, signaling the first signs of autumn. The moon was nearly full and the sky a cloudless black blanket. The only light was the moon's glow. The setting of the fight would be perfect — midnight, desolate, and cliché for a night out demon hunting. It could have been an ordinary training session with Shiro but no, they had a big mission tonight.

Shiro had been told not to get in the way, just in case things got too heated and because of what had happened previously. He parked himself in the forest by the side, semi-hidden by the foliage, ready to attend to anything that should arise in the fight. He brought along his old wakizashi, a titanium-rimmed handle with a silver blade. It was in its sheath attached to Shiro's belt. It was a memory from a long time ago and something that made Shiro grimace. Unconsciously, he touched his arm. He couldn't wear his old demon hunting suit. Instead, he dressed simply in pants and a shirt that clung to his toned body.

"You got this, alright? Remember patience yields focus. If anything, I'll just be right behind you," Shiro whispered.

Keith nodded, biting his lip and watched Shiro sprint off. He took a deep breath and repeated 'Patience yields focus' over and over again, like a mantra forming in his head, calming him down.

Another gust of wind blew, dragging in the smell of gasoline and burning. Keith knew the smell from when he had first met Zarkon. He got his blade ready. It was still in its tanto form, and he was not going to extend it just yet.

Smoke filtered in like wisps and a voice spoke. "So, what do we have here? Someone back to redeem themselves?" The voice was deep and could strike fear as easy as a match.

"You should know what I'm here for. I'm here not just for my honour. I'm here to protect this town from you," Keith shouted bravely, steeling himself. He was going to do this. He was going to defeat Zarkon once and for all.

"We'll see about that," the voice drawled on. He finally materialized into a demon twice Keith's size. His eyes glowed amethyst and hands extended into claws. He wore what looked like a battle armor made from Tuscan red metal with an insignia that looked vaguely familiar. But Keith didn’t want to lose himself in trying to remember. He lifted his tanto and wielded it, turning it into a katana. Twisting it in his hand, he adjusted his stance as Shiro had reminded him and concentrated. He held his breath, waiting for Zarkon's next move.

Zarkon struck first, rushing forward. In his hand materialized a black bayard. With a flick of his wrist, he activated it a gleaming violet sword. He went straight in but Keith dodged, narrowly missing the tip of the blade. Zarkon went in again, eyes burning in their sockets and snarling with glee, savouring every moment of the action. Keith swerved left and pressed the fire opal, allowing the katana to blaze. It shone brighter than the moon that hung overhead, eagerly watching the battle. Keith lurched forward, aiming for Zarkon's side, searching for a possible a gap in the armor. He wasn’t in luck as Zarkon shot streaks of fire from his claws at him. Zarkon dived in again but Keith matched up this time with his own weapon, causing bits of sparks and flames to go flying.

Keith's fire grew bigger as he slammed his blade onto Zarkon's armor, dragging it down the front. He expected it to cut all the way through, but instead, the metal seemed impenetrable and it only caused him to stagger back. The only way was to aim for his head. Zarkon laughed at his attempt, but Keith was undeterred. The distance between them had grown, and Keith had one hand raised with his blade and the other in front of him awaiting action. They circled each other, assessing what move to make like predators about to compete. Keith's muscles were tired but tense. They recoiled when he sprinted forward, and at the last second took a leap, swinging his blade forward, katana raised up high and poised to slice something, any part of Zarkon that he could. As if he had foreseen it, Zarkon caught Keith easily by the neck, hand enclosing around his throat. His claws were digging to Keith's flesh, drawing blood. But that wasn't even the main concern, as the burning sensation overpowered everything else. Keith struggled, trying to break free. He got what he wanted as Zarkon threw him, sending him flying backward and crashing onto the ground.

Keith landed on his back but was still moving. He dragged himself up and felt the blood and raw skin on his neck. He coughed, trying to breathe again, but it felt as though only smoke was filling up his chest. Zarkon strolled forward leisurely, already knowing he was going to win this battle. Keith staggered to regain his balance. His eyes squinted at the insignia, only to realize that it was the same one on his old blade. Shock splayed across his face as Zarkon struck again. Keith immediately defended, pushing his katana forward. Zarkon was overpowering him, but Keith stood his ground and fought back hard. He clenched his teeth together. Zarkon was so much stronger than him, and he was feeling the burn and exhaustion from the battle. There were so many thoughts filing in his head now as he focused on surviving and questioning everything he knew of his past. Realizing he was not going to give up, Zarkon kicked Keith right in the abdomen, sending him flying. He landed on the hard gravel, dropping to the ground for the second time like a rag doll. He dropped his katana, and there was nothing left to defend himself with. Zarkon kicked away the katana and picked him up again by his neck, claws producing fire that Keith could see from the corner of his sight. He was being choked physically and from the fire, but he was unaware that his skin wasn’t bursting into flames. He struggled, feeling his body dangle and hang, fingers grasping to look for some way to escape. Where was Shiro?

Zarkon smiled, showing razor-sharp teeth. "You must recognize the insignia. It's Galra. And guess what? You are one too. Or at least, half of one." It made Keith struggle even more as he frantically slammed his fists against the claws.

Zarkon continued, clearly enjoying the sight. "I bet no one else knows, but soon they will find out that the  _ professional  _ demon hunter is actually a demon himself. A demon that kills his own kind. It's no wonder other demons have come for you. I bet Shiro doesn't know either, that you are the same as me — a fire demon that tore his life apart. I've seen your flames, Keith. I know you're just like your mother. You should know better than to pretend to play a hero, a protector. You're not, and no one is  _ ever  _ going to see you as that."

He chuckled as Keith struggled less and less. Keith felt the fatigue take over and his eyelids were getting heavy, just as the flames burned too bright around his neck. He was suffocating. Keith's eyelids were finally shutting when there was a crack as something long and silver was stabbed through Zarkon's neck. The grip on Keith was released and he fell to the ground, rolling over onto his sore elbows to cough and gasp for air. Zarkon's body dropped to its knees and fell to the side, blackish blood pooling to the side.

Shiro was at Keith's side immediately, holding onto him. Keith was fading fast, his vision getting blurrier and blurrier. Somehow, he felt himself being lifted up and carried. The world started to spin, at first slow, then increasing its speed. Keith finally let the darkness drag him away.

\-----

There was light. It was warm. He was being pulled back gently from the darkness. His body seemed to be alright. Nothing hurt that much except for a dull ache, especially on his neck. He allowed himself to breathe, inhaling deeply as if breathing again for what seemed like the first time.

Keith opened his eyes slowly, letting them adjust to his surroundings. He recognized it immediately. He was in Shiro's room and he was lying down, tucked into Shiro's bed. And there was Shiro, rushing to his bedside.

"Keith, you're awake," Shiro said, smiling. "How are you feeling?"

Keith was surprised he could still speak, as he had thought his throat had been burned to a crisp. The battle played in his mind like flashbacks.

"A little sore and achy but I think I should be fine."

Shiro sat down on the bed and put his hand on top of Keith's. "You took quite a lot out there."

For some reason, Keith liked the way Shiro's eyes shimmered in the light from behind him. He placed a hand on top of Shiro's in response. "I think I did - last night was a blur for me. The last thing I remember was something killing Zarkon and I was being carried away by…by..."

Keith thought for a moment, remembering what had happened not that long ago felt almost surreal. "By you."

"Zarkon was about to kill you…and I had to step in. I stabbed him with my blade and brought you here. He's dead now."

"Oh…I see… so Zarkon's dead," Keith murmured, trying to believe it. He remembered being tossed like a rag doll and set aflame. "How long was I out for?" Keith asked.

"About a day," Shiro replied, still gazing at Keith with concern.

"But his son, Lotor, he's probably coming. We need-"

"You need to rest up. We're not sure yet when Lotor would hear about his father's death. All we know is that it's not going to be soon. Allura would have seen it and warned us by now. Everyone's worried about you, but I told them to let you rest and regain your strength before we decided what to do from here on."

Keith nodded. His hand still on Shiro's and to his surprise, Shiro flipped his palm over and gave it a small squeeze. He may as well have squeezed Keith's heart. 

Shiro stared at Keith's hand, deep in thought. The action puzzled Keith. The intensity of his gaze made him look more than just a little concerned. He seemed truly worried. There was a pregnant pause before Shiro let go of Keith's hand and stood up. "I'll let you rest a bit. I've brought your stuff over if you needed anything. I'll be downstairs so just let me know if you need anything."

Just as Shiro was about to leave, Keith called out to him. "Shiro, wait. Thank you for saving me back there. If it weren't for you I…I wouldn't be here alive, so um…thank you for this. And for everything you've done for me." Keith could feel himself blushing scarlet. He was never eloquent enough but he needed to say something to Shiro. It was only then that he realized that there was more he wanted to say. There was a whole lot more than was trapped in the deep recesses of his heart. They were the things that were only said on one's deathbed or when one had stared death in the face but made it out alive.

"You’re welcome, Keith. I'd do them all again, as many times as it takes." Shiro smiled at him, making him feel all warm inside. Keith laid back down, content at the moment. He was lying in Shiro's bed, and Shiro had saved him. What more could he have asked for?

\-----

Keith must have dozed off again. He woke up to light draped hazily over him, illuminating his hands. He looked down to realize he was dressed in his own clothes; Shiro must have changed him. He went to the bathroom to change into a fresh pair of clothes and to freshen up. His body had felt a lot better, which was surprising since only a day had passed. He absentmindedly washed his face and took off his clothes. He had just put on a new shirt when he saw the new marks on his neck.

Keith put his fingers to them, feeling the skin. It was almost healed, leaving only old scars he was already familiar with. Besides the scorched aftermath of the flames that had assaulted his neck. He should have died from them. His whole throat should have burned until there was nothing left but ashes and his decapitated his body.

Instead, the marks had turned into pink petals across his throat. They bloomed all over his neck and their roots stretched over his collarbones downward toward his chest. He must have been dreaming, he needed to be. No human could have healed that fast from wounds that should have taken months to heal. He shook his head in disbelief. There was just no way this could be happening. No way at all.

He stripped off the shirt. Where should have been a mess of scar tissue that had yet to heal and should have still been bleeding, was instead a map of pink lines. This was also evident on his arms. His ribs should have been fractured and bones should have been broken, but, no. They were all intact. When he was flung, it wouldn't have been possible for him to be unscathed after. Then, he remembered Zarkon's words.

He didn’t know what was happening. His surroundings were spinning, and he suddenly felt ill again. He rested his head on the doorway of the bathroom, trying to focus. Shiro's words echoed in his mind - patience yields focus. He squeezed his eyes shut trying to breathe. Maybe Shiro would know what was happening, he thought and sped downstairs.

Shiro was in the kitchen, preparing a hot drink, possibly for him. Keith burst through suddenly.

"Keith, is everything all right?" Shiro asked, putting down the cup and rushing over to him.

"I…I don’t know. I don’t know what's going on. Shiro, how did this happen? How am I like this?" Keith was panicking, his body shaking.

"Whoa, whoa, Keith slow down. Tell me slowly," Shiro calmed him.

"Shiro, I shouldn't have recovered in a day. My wounds and burns have healed. After the damage I took yesterday, it's just not possible to heal that quickly. Zarkon…he said something about me. You must have heard it too…I just," Keith said all in one breath. "I just need to know now if it's true."

Shiro sighed. "It's true, Keith. But I didn’t want to confirm anything yet. You heal too fast for a human and…and when you're using fire, it's like you're energized. Plus, the fire you're holding onto gets bigger."

Shiro shook his head. "I'm sorry this is happening and all at once."

He took a step closer but Keith shrank back. This whole experience made his world spin in every direction. All Keith wanted to do now was to take a moment to breathe but the realization struck him over and over again until he could wrap his head around it. 

"That means that I'm a demon. A fire demon. It's in my blood."

\-----

The adjustment period was like trying to climb a mountain when you didn’t even know how to walk. Keith stared at his blade. He stared at the forest. He stared at Shiro.

Shiro held him as he looked at his belongings - now foreign objects he no longer recognized. He never knew who his mother was and his father never mentioned her. She wasn’t a distant memory - she was never there.

However, things were gradually getting better. He picked up his blade again. Shiro started to forge again. There was not yet any news of Lotor so the town was safe for now. Shiro agreed that what they knew should still be kept a secret, at least for the time being. So far, there hadn't been any other developments with his powers, and there hadn't been any other demon incidents. The demons outside stayed away from Keith, but that didn’t stop his own from coming after him.

Shiro insisted that Keith stay with him for the time being. It would be safer for him, and they could monitor for signs of activity. They started to train again. But it didn’t feel the same. He wanted it to go back to how it was before that battle, but knowing what he was changed everything. He didn’t know what he could do to stop seeing himself as something that could hurt others; something that could have hurt Shiro.

Shiro had been with him through the whole ordeal, never turning his back or leaving him to face it on his own. Keith didn’t know devotion until he was with Shiro. Nevertheless, guilt pricked his mind over and over. How could Shiro help a half-demon like him? What if he was uncontrollable? What if he took lives like other demons did? What if he hurt Shiro? How could he hurt Shiro? He was his support and guiding light. How could he do this to him?

Keith knew his feelings were deeper than just best friends. He didn't want to risk the life of someone he loved. So he left. It hurt him, but he had to. He was on the road again in no time. He left in the middle of the early morning, hoping Shiro wouldn't come after him.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find the art [here](https://opaldelight.tumblr.com/post/178289857076/i-can-finally-post-my-sheithbigbang-entry-this). You can find Opaldelight on [Tumblr](https://opaldelight.tumblr.com/) and Apheliosan on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/apheliosan) and [AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/apheliosan/pseuds/apheliosan). 
> 
> Come talk to me at Misttiique on [Tumblr](https://misttiique.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/misttiique).


	6. Chapter 6

Keith packed up everything he laid open on his first night in this town. His bottom lip trembled, and he bit down harder on it. He knew if he released it, a waterfall would crash out of him and drown him in things he didn't want to feel.

He wanted to check everything in his backpack but didn't want to look back at the memories. Somehow everything led back to him, whether he wanted it to or not. He shoved the katana into its sheath and attached it to his bag.

It was definitely enchanted enough to make him tear up. He couldn't stop thinking about how he snapped at Shiro earlier that day. He had been planning his leave for the past few days but it was just an excuse. He didn't need Shiro knowing the truth of why he left - he didn’t want to hurt him further.

He knew he owed Shiro so much, but he couldn't bear to hurt him after knowing what he truly was. He didn't allow himself to cry because he needed to sort this mess out away from everyone, away from him. He felt the explosion and the collapse all at the same time. It was still dark when he left, and it didn't change the fact that he passed by the place of his battle with Zarkon, where Shiro had saved him.

Tears streamed harder from his face and with a gloved his hand, he covered his hand over his mouth. He was aware of the choking sounds he seemed to be emitting from the inside of his chest.

He didn't know how far he had been going until he finally stopped because he just  _ physically _ couldn't move forward any longer. He loved Shiro. But how could he claim to love someone when he didn't know anything else. He didn't know what he was and that meant that everything he thought he knew could not even have been real in the first place.

He stopped to sob by the side of the empty road, a literal cry for help. No one came by in the few hours he was there. It was just him and the emptiness as it always should have been.

The quiet had helped him think, had helped him plan. He figured that since Lotor may never come for the town, it was probably safe. And without himself around, it would be a lot safer. He blamed himself for leading Zarkon there and endangering everyone in the very first place.

Suddenly, there was a screech of wheels and footsteps on the gravel. The sound reverberated through the air, breaking Keith's punishment of silence.

"You know, a note would have been nice," the voice behind Keith said. It was all too familiar, and Keith didn't want to acknowledge it.

"I figured it's better that I leave. There would be less trouble caused, and Lotor probably is not showing up anyway," Keith replied, his tone solemn as he tried to suppress the feelings.

"The only question I had was why…I thought things were okay around here but I get it now. I really do. And this is your decision to make. But for what's worth I wanted to let you know that you are not alone in this. You were never alone."

"It's because of that! It's because I didn't want to hurt you. I could have, and I still can."

"You won't. Trust me."

"You don’t know that. No one does. You're wasting your time helping me. I'm sorry it was all for nothing - I didn’t even kill Zarkon and I put everyone in danger, including you. I'm half-demon, Shiro! A fire demon! I'm unpredictable and uncontrollable. Fire demons like me have hurt you before and I'm not going to put you through that again. I can't bear to see you get hurt while doing all of this for me."

"You think that I did all this just for you, for the town, but I did this for me too. I did this because for once, I could redeem myself. I had lost everything but you, you showed me that it wasn’t the end. When I killed Zarkon, I was finally able to find peace and kill what had tortured me, to put an end to all the pain that I had felt. And you, being with you made me for once feel like I was going to be okay. I hadn’t felt that in so long. You made me feel me again, who I was before all of this, when I was a demon hunter again. I won't stop you if you want to go, but I will tell you this. You're not like the other demons, Keith. Just because you're half a demon, doesn’t mean you're no longer you. Just because you've lost yourself once, doesn't mean you should let that define you."

Tears trickled down Keith's cheeks, wetting the dry ground. His fists were clenched at his sides as he heard silence followed by the sound of Shiro's boots turning and the start of his hoverbike’s engine. He didn’t want to admit it but deep down, he knew Shiro was right. And if Shiro had stayed with him all this while and even went after him, Keith could at least let him know the truth about how he really felt. The least he could do was finish the whole job as it was agreed upon previously.

"Wait, Shiro!" Keith finally spun around. "Wait! I'm not leaving just yet. Fine, I'll stay but only to kill Lotor -  to protect this town as promised. But that's it… I'll only be here until that's done," he said to Shiro and himself.

\-----

It was perfect timing as Shiro had a message waiting for him after he left. It was a frantic call from Coran about Lotor arriving in a couple of days time. It wasn't to avenge his father, like Keith had previously thought it would be. It was a show of power as the next ruler of the Galras.

Time seemed to pass faster as they spent whatever time they had left checking their weapons and training. Finally, the time had come. It was a couple of hours away from when they were to catch Lotor on his way there and stop him before it was too late.

Shiro was serious about being a demon hunter again. With Keith in his suit from the previous battle, Shiro was all decked out. He wore a black and gold kendogi with the left side off-shoulder. Gold was embroidered on the edges of it and it had a blue dragon embroidered on his back. It was paired with black lace-up boots and a collared piece.

This time, it was Keith who stared at Shiro. "Looking good," he teased. 

"Oh, this? It's pretty old. From my demon hunting days."

"Well, your demon hunting days are back."

"Thanks for bringing me back to this," Shiro said, tucking his wakizashi into a sheath on the belt around his waist. The openness of the kimono exposed half of his chest, back, and his left arm, all of which were covered in scars. But Shiro was proud of them as they showed his strength and endurance.

Shiro and Keith rode their bikes to the same site.

"The moon is full tonight," Shiro commented.

"The best time to go demon hunting," Keith said.

Little droplets started to fall from the dark heavens on their journey, as if the gods were tearing up at what was about to happen.

They parked their hoverbikes side-by-side and got ready to wait. There was something in Keith's mind that desperately wanted to be said. Keith knew that whatever may happen tonight would be his last so with a deep breath of nervousness, he finally allowed himself to say it after all those months.

"Shiro, I know this isn't exactly the best time, but I don't know if either of us would make it out of here alive. But I want you to know that….that….I like you. As more than just a best friend."

Keith released his breath and looked away, not daring to look at Shiro. That took all the guts needed for this battle and he was ready to pass out on the floor. The battle had not even started yet but adrenaline had already pumped its way into his veins.

"I like you too, Keith. I really, really wanted to tell you sooner but I just didn't know how you'd react or if you would even consider me as someone you would like."

He slowly turned toward Shiro and saw that his face was flushed. His heart may just burst with joy. It seemed like the right kind of motivation for a possible life-ending battle.

"It's just that ever since I've met you, I just feel like I've known you before…from somewhere. Maybe in a past life but I just…I don’t know how to explain it but I feel like we're connected somehow. It probably sounds silly," Keith confessed and laughed a little, thinking that it was the oddest feeling of being connected to someone, yet it felt too real to not have been there.

"I know," Shiro agreed, excited. "It's as if I've known you my entire life. It's like a string pulling us together."

"I wish I'd said something sooner, honestly," Keith admitted. "Maybe, we would have more time."

"At least we got a chance to say it," Shiro murmured.

Then came the smell of gasoline, and they knew it was time. Keith fired up his katana and stood in the position that Shiro had shown him a million times before.

Shiro stood his ground in a similar position as Lotor seemed to waltz forward to meet them.

"I assume my reputation precedes me," Lotor said, smirking at them.

"Although I may be the rightful heir of the Galran throne, I do want to emphasize I'm not my father. So, I'm giving you a chance to give up your little town first and surrender yourselves before I do it by force. There is a new way in the Galra empire, and it is my way."

He wasn’t like his father at all. With armor of navy blue, Byzantium and orange, he stood before them. He had long, flowing white hair that cascaded almost like a cape behind him. Instead of a deep growl that emanated from within Zarkon when he spoke, Lotor's accent was posh but sharp. So was his blade, which he held casually to the side. Keith assumed that he was the type to rule differently but they couldn’t take the chance.

"We're never surrendering," Shiro answered for the both of them.

"Thought so. Well, we'll have to see about that later on, won't we?" Lotor grinned as if he had already won. He ran forth, going for Keith first. He slashed low, aiming for Keith's lower half first. But Keith had pivoted and grabbed Lotor's wrist in an attempt to yank him down and cut his arm off. Lotor seemed to know what he was thinking and kicked Keith hard in the abdomen with his knee, causing him to slide across the ground. Lotor was lanky but appearances were be deceiving, as he had the strength of thousands.

Shiro came from behind, charging with his wakizashi raised up. He did a spin just in time to dodge an incoming slice by Lotor. Every strike was equally matched and each of their blades glinted its hard shine in the moonlight. They seem to almost be dancing with fast, graceful steps. One wrong move could lead to their deaths. And Shiro was the one to make the first mistake as he dived forward, his wakizashi pierced through Lotor's armor.

However, it didn’t penetrate deep enough to inflict any actual damage. He went in again at Lotor's neck and was caught with ease and stabbed in his side. Blood spread across the kimono, darkening the shiny silk material. Shiro clutched his side and looked at the red on his hands, wincing in agony.

Lotor twisted his arm at an awkward angle behind him and pulled with a sharp snap, definitely breaking something. He pulled again, as if about to rip it from its socket. Shiro screamed and expected fire from him somewhere but there wasn’t any. Instead, Lotor kicked his legs from under him, forcing him to kneel. Shiro could feel the hard gravel on his knees and struggled against Lotor's force but Lotor only held him tighter.

As Keith got up slowly, he could see Lotor restraining Shiro. His immediate instinct was to protect. He clenched his jaw tightly in anger and determination. When he slid on the ground, it must have scratched his face as he felt blood dripping down his cheeks. He also must have landed in the wrong position, as there was a sharp pain in his shoulder. His katana was next to him, and he reached for it. He'd been avoiding using the fire in it but seeing Shiro in that position sparked his fury. Without even pressing the fire opal, the katana blazed to life.

With one arm broken and the other pinned behind his back, Shiro kneeled as blood poured out his wound. He was literally seeing stars as his head was tilted backward. Lotor yanked Shiro's head back roughly to expose his neck. He sliced through Shiro's collar, revealing smooth, penetrable skin. Just as the tip of the cold blade touched it, Keith swiftly let his katana stab through Lotor's heart deeply. He twisted the blade, spreading its flames to Lotor.

Lotor stood still, too shocked to move. Keith removed his katana and sliced it through Lotor's neck veins from the back. The flames singed off his white hair and hit home through Lotor's veins. It was a continuous, refined motion that split Lotor's head from his body. His blood spurted out like a burst pipe, drenching everything.

Both parts dropped down to the ground with a heavy thud, concluding the battle.

"Hey, Shiro, hey, it's going to be fine," Keith said, rushing over to Shiro and checking the wounds. Shiro was going to live -  he was going to make sure of it.

"Keith…" The name escaped Shiro's lips weakly but it was all the Shiro could muster.

"We're going to be okay, Shiro. Stay with me." Keith put his arm around Shiro's waist and Shiro's unbroken arm over his shoulder. He lifted him up and brought him slowly toward their hoverbikes and Shiro leaned against Keith.

Behind them, the flames consumed Lotor's body ravenously. Even though it had been drizzling throughout the fight, it could never reduce the flames of Keith's blade and the effects of it. Just as a lighthouse was a signal of safety, the fire that the blade had created continued burning in that dark night as Keith had not only saved the town, but Shiro too. 

\-----

It had been months since the battle. Shiro had fully recovered and Keith had decided to stay in the town just for a little longer, reasoning that he should protect the town for a bit in case anything else were to happen. They were thanked for their heroic actions and offered to be the new protectors of the town. Keith said he'd considered it as he looked sheepishly at Shiro, because he was only going to do it if Shiro did it with him.

Keith had just finished killing another demon that attempted to drown the forest. He went back to Shiro's place, or rather his place now.

"Hey, back so soon?" Shiro called, walking over to meet him on the porch.

"Yeah, it was an easy win."

"No, I don't think any demon could win against Keith Kogane, the professional demon hunter."

"Only when I have weapons made by you, of course." Keith laughed, a sound that bubbled through him. Shiro loved hearing it. He stood behind Keith a little protectively and wrapped his arms around his waist. Keith patted his hands and leaned back against Shiro's chest. "Missed me today, huh?"

"I guess so," Shiro murmured as he rested his chin on Keith's head. "Maybe a little too much."

Keith reached up and placed his hand against Shiro’s cheek, which he leaned into. Shiro kissed Keith’s palm gently before closing his eyes and enjoying the warmth from the palm and his chest. 

He felt the small chuckle in Keith's chest and pulled him even closer to him, almost melding into him. It was like creating a new piece of metal to forge yet another weapon, combining their strength together to form a combination of power and determination.

It is times like this when Keith knew he picked just the right sword maker to forge his sword. He picked the right partner to fight demons with him. He picked the right motivation to keep him fighting, despite finding out he wasn't what he always knew he was. And he was happy that love that had come in the form of Shiro, who had picked him when he decided to forge him the blade, above everything else.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find the art [here](https://opaldelight.tumblr.com/post/178289857076/i-can-finally-post-my-sheithbigbang-entry-this). You can find Opaldelight on [Tumblr](https://opaldelight.tumblr.com/) and Apheliosan on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/apheliosan) and [AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/apheliosan/pseuds/apheliosan). 
> 
> Come talk to me at Misttiique on [Tumblr](https://misttiique.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/misttiique).

**Author's Note:**

> You can find the art [here](https://opaldelight.tumblr.com/post/178289857076/i-can-finally-post-my-sheithbigbang-entry-this). You can find Opaldelight on [Tumblr](https://opaldelight.tumblr.com/) and Apheliosan on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/apheliosan) and [AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/apheliosan/pseuds/apheliosan). 
> 
> Come talk to me at Misttiique on [Tumblr](https://misttiique.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/misttiique).


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